


ghost of a king

by ashinan



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood, Character Study, Constructed Reality, Dreamscapes, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Space Battles, Team Bonding, Telepathic Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-07-26 10:04:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7569946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashinan/pseuds/ashinan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a routine recon mission turned ambush, Lance and Blue must take drastic measures to ensure their survival. The aftermath leaves Lance lost and dreaming, and the team helpless to the possibility that, without a guide, he won't make it back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Whenever I end up in a new fandom, I always like to take one character and put them in an extreme situation. Lance was the lucky winner this time. I wanted to explore the idea of being mentally bonded to a sentient mecha space lion, and so here we are. 
> 
> HUGE thanks to [Lisa](http://butteredonions.tumblr.com//), who edited it even though she STILL HASN'T SEEN VOLTRON, and literally stayed up for DAYS with me combing through this fic and agonizing over a summary. If you're looking for music for the start of this fic, please do listen to [ Brothers in Arms](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nSXTxyynUJ4/) from the Mad Max: Fury Road OST.

Routine patrols were necessary, especially in Galra controlled sectors. Lance flicked a switch, bringing up the map of his route, and Blue hummed a tune as she swayed lazily from side to side. They came out of the wormhole, directly into red territory, and Lance did his checks as it closed silently behind them.

D’vix rose before them. It was a cacophony of juxtaposed colours: neon orange and sky blue and so much red that Lance honestly worried staring at it would drive him mental. Two dusty moons flanked the planet: Hellrin and Corral’a. There had been chatter that Hellrin was of import to the Galra supply ships, so Lance was tasked with quick recon before he continued on his patrol.

“Maybe we’ll see some action this time around,” Lance said.

Blue huffed, dropping her left side and rolling them over. Lance laughed. She righted them before coming to a gentle stop just before D’vix and its gravitational field. Calculations fired up on the screen and Lance scanned them over, searching for anything report worthy, and frowned when a line of code pinged red. Blue’s ears perked up and her head snapped to the side.

“What d’you got?” Lance asked, hands flying over the keys. Blue turned, easy, easy, and there in the distance was a Galra transport ship, heading straight for Corral’a. Lance grinned. “Good girl.”

Quickly, he brought up the comms for the Castle, firing off a quick message, along with the image of the ship. It meandered forward, in no real hurry. Narrowing his eyes, Lance maximized the image. Something felt – off. Blue growled low and Lance startled when Allura staticked into view, the connection heavily distorted.

“We have received your transmission, Lance. There’s something strange about the data. Maintain your distance, but see if you can figure out why the readings are off. We’ll head for your location.”

“Yeah, something’s not right.” Reaching up, he clicked twice to get a reading on the ship. It was definitely limping along, a temptation, and Blue’s growl grew. “ETA?”

“Shiro and Pidge will be arriving back shortly. Roughly thirty Earth minutes, I would guess.”

“Gotcha. Lance out.”

The display remained on the Galra transporter and its faltering path. Blue’s hackles were raised, her claws flexing, and Lance gathered as much information from her display as possible. “What do you think, Blue? Should we take a closer look?”

Blue grumbled, the display pushing in closer to the vessel and its plotted course to Corral’a. That was - even more unusual. Her curiosity got the better of her and she drifted forward. “Okay, whoa, let’s think this through. If it’s a trap, we’re not really prepared to trigger it.”

A flash of them leaving at the first sight of danger settled in his mind. “I know you think you’re the fastest kitty in the known galaxy, but Red has you beat there.” The ship continued to meander, a fat lure waiting for them to take the bait. Blue’s curiosity prickled sharp against his thoughts. “Fine. How close can you get without it seeing us?”

Blue hummed, head cocking as she projected a path on the screen. Lance plugged in the numbers alongside his own, squinting. “Have you ever heard the phrase: curiosity killed the cat?”

She didn’t seem to care, paws flexing, thoughts on stalking and pouncing and killing. He sighed and flicked another switch. “Of course not, you’re a giant space Lion. Yeah, yeah, let’s do this.”

Purring, Blue rolled her thanks over his thoughts before allowing Lance to take control. He adjusted their trajectory and she took off, staying just above D’vix and its pull. The ship pinged more data as they drew closer. Corral’a would become visible shortly. Lance breathed out.

Just before they crested the rise of the planet, the ship picked up speed. Panic jumped up Lance’s spine and Blue responded to it, slamming on the brakes and backpedalling. Alarms blared and his radar lit up with red dots, _so many red dots_ , and Lance’s fingers flew over the keyboard.

“Well, I hate to say I told you so, but here we are. _Mierda_. Blue, we need to run and we need to run fast.”

The force of Blue’s thrusters slammed Lance back into his seat and he groaned, fingers flexing over the keys. Getting the commlink back up, he cursed when it was nothing but white noise and static. Jamming tech, then. This wasn’t good.

“Faster, faster, _faster_ ,” Lance chanted, entering in the coordinates to get them as far away from the ambush as possible. The screen lit up red. Blue snarled as she ground to a halt.

Before them was a veritable blockade, Galra ships clustering in formation as they closed in on Lance and Blue. Furious, Lance rerouted them and Blue took off just as a wave of fire bore down on them. Lance thrust the keyboard away and took up controls again, scanning the incoming missiles and deciding on strategy.

“Go up. We have to take down a few of the ships to scatter them and hope we get the one with the jammer.” Lance swiped to the left, waiting for the information to come pouring through. Blue bared her teeth. “Once the signal is gone, we’ll be able to run to safety.”

An image of destroying the entire fleet flashed briefly through Lance’s mind and he laughed. “Hey, we’re show-offs, not suicidal. Though if we can’t get the jammer offline, we’ll have to hold the line. You up for it?”

Blue roared her acquiescence, her excitement, and Lance fired. Half the missiles disappeared under Lance’s counterattack and Blue dodged around the other half, her speed not quite as high as Red’s but her ability to turn on a dime legendary. Lance shifted gears, taking them into a dive, and Blue shot straight for the first battlecruiser.

They fired, but Blue navigated easily around them. Lance tracked trajectories and gave off coordinates, which Blue lined up for him. The stars disappeared behind the blue-white flames as an explosion decimated the Galra battlecruiser.  Lance jerked forward in his seat as they were carried out and away from it. Blue shot straight into another one, her snarl mirroring Lance’s shout of rage as they tore through metal and wires, through one side of the ship and out the other. Wheeling her around, Lance flicked a switch and Blue fired three quick bursts of light before darting forward to deal damage with her claws. The explosion was silent, a brilliant blast of energy that quickly condensed in the rolling expanse of space, and Lance breathed out.

With a hole in the fleet, Blue ran toward open space, rolling her mind against Lance’s to check him over quickly. He waved her off as he tried once more to connect the commlink. Still static. The jamming signal was still up. Shit.

“Looks like we’re staying,” Lance said, running his hand over the switches. Blue growled. “We got this. We – we’ll be fine. Ready, girl?”

Blue’s head snapped up and to the side. Alarms blared and Lance brought up the screen, gaze darting over the barrage of red dots as they turned to track them. He swallowed. ETA of the rest of the team was still twenty minutes, and that was if they weren’t intercepted. Focus. No time to worry about that. His fingers danced over the controls, Blue humming her agreement as she turned to face them, her hackles up and roar gathering deep in her chest.

The back of the chair hissed as a targeting screen pushed forward and sighted in front of Lance’s left eye, the controls on the arms of the chair changing to triggers. Lance lined up the shots with the ones on the screen, quick calibrations scrolling through the HUD display on his helmet. Inhaling, he held his breath as green lights flashed across the board.

Exhale. Fire.

A brilliant burst of gunfire rocketed forth from Blue’s mouth, breaking apart into multiple smaller beams as they raced toward the oncoming Galra ships. Lance didn’t bother watching, just quickly resighted his lens and flicked his thumb over the trigger shift, waiting for the calibrations to complete. Blue moved further away, keeping Lance at the same distance from the targets.

Green. Fire.

Green. Fire.

Green. Fire –

Blue screamed as gunfire peppered her back, throwing Lance’s latest calculations off target. The seatbelt cut cruel into his neck, nearly choking him. Shoving the targeting screen back into the seat, Lance caught control of Blue as she whirled, claws sharp and ready, fury pouring off of her in concentrated waves. Her mind blurred against his, feeding off his faith in her, his faith in the team, and when Lance punched forward, Blue let forth a massive beam of icy energy. It caught the eight ships that had snuck up on them in a deadly wave, shattering them apart instantly in a flurry of devastating explosions.

Spinning Blue back to face the overwhelming wave of Galra pouring down on them, Lance’s stomach nearly dropped to his knees. Blue wrapped her consciousness around him, her reassurance unable to quell the sheer terror that clawed desperately at the back of his throat. Seventeen minutes. They could – they could hold out for seventeen minutes. Blue rumbled her acquiescence and Lance pulled his thoughts away from the cold reality of space and back to surviving. He had to survive. Switches glowed to life under his hands and he followed Blue’s instructions, flicking over the buttons as she raced away from the ensuing hoard.

The final charge completed and both side windows disappeared under a flurry of blue light as identical shoulder cannons became available. Blue snarled as she twisted around, her fury enough to focus Lance on the task at hand. He refused to die here. But if he did, he would take thousands of these assholes down with him. There was no way they would be easy targets.

The cannon fired thick spindles of sparkling blue light, and Lance tensed against the recoil, biting back a groan when his armour cut deep into his skin. Blue caught herself and lined up again, awaiting Lance’s input, vibrating with unresolved tension. Lance punched in the final calculations and more light spilled out into the darkness of space, the Galra ships shredded apart in a matter of moments. Fifteen minutes. Each recoil painted new bruises onto Lance’s skin, pain sparking up and over his throat as he was thrown back in his seat and forward again. Panting, Lance lined up the next shot. Blue hissed out an exhausted query.

“We can do this, girl,” Lance gasped. “Fifteen minutes. We can do it.”

The cannon whirred angrily and fired, rocketing Lance back and then snapping him forward. Something gave in his right shoulder, a blinding shard of pain that forced a cry from his throat. Blue coiled around him, worry overtaking the rage, and Lance breathed through the tunnel crowding his vision.

Blue pushed harder, worry morphing into terror, and Lance reassured her. “I’ll be fine. We have to hold the line.”

With a thunderous roar, Blue lit up the entire panel room and Lance followed her directions. The shoulder cannons slotted back into place, the side screens opening up again, and Lance balked at the sheer _size_ of the fleet still remaining. He swallowed. Blue pulled him away from his dark thoughts.

“Right. Okay. Let’s do this.”

Once more, the targeting screen slid over his left eye, the HUD lighting up with rolling lights. Lance licked his lips. Blue waited, crouched and ready, and when the display flashed green, fired off another shot. His shoulder twinged, distracting him. Lance pushed through it. He had to. The display lit up with explosions, just like before, but the amount of lights didn’t dim, the flow of Galra didn’t slow, and Lance shouted his despair.

“Why don’t you bastards _die_ already?” He jammed his thumb into the button, over and over, but nothing changed. Frustration gathered as tears in his eyes, rage biting his lip ragged, and Blue coiled tighter around his consciousness, blurring the line between them more.

The first ship slipped through his barrage of fire and Blue danced backwards, trying to maintain distance but losing agility due to the guns slowing her down. Lance tried to compensate for the drag with his own calculations, but it wasn’t enough. The ship fired. Blue ducked her shoulder and pushed back, the jerk of her body sending Lance scrambling to tuck away the targeting system, hand caught under the display. Two more ships dove in close and Blue dodged. The targeting system slingshotted forward and then back, catching and wrenching Lance’s forearm backwards. He heard more than felt the _crack_ , and had a single moment to wonder what exactly had happened before pain exploded over his senses.

His scream was enough to distract Blue. Her left flank was unprotected and took the brunt of the fire, her howl of pain mingling with Lance’s own as Lance’s arm was twisted further out of alignment, his suit tearing. He panicked. Scrambling at the console with his right hand, he bit back sobs of pain as each of Blue’s movements pinned him tighter, fractured his arm more, and he could barely see through the lights pocking his vision.

“Please, please,” he panted, wrenching at it, fingers slipping over the glass. “ _Por favor_ , Blue, _por favour, duele_!”

She kept dodging, unable to stop, and Lance knew in the back of his mind that if she did they would both perish. But everything was agony and he couldn’t get free, he was _trapped_ , pinned in place and helpless. Another two shots hit their mark and Blue was thrown backwards. Lance’s head snapped sharp against the consoled screen, fracturing the HUD display. Warmth collected above his brow, trickling slowly down and into his eyes. Blood. He was bleeding. He couldn’t breathe.

Blue shoved against his mind. He could barely hear her through his own thoughts, of the pain and fear trumping everything else. She broke through to him with a howl, wrenching him free of his torment and suddenly Lance could _see_. He could see the ships coming toward them, he could move away and dodge and push Blue toward safety. He – she – they could hold out until backup arrived, until their family arrived; they could do it.

Dully, pain radiated in the back of their thoughts, shrouded in shadow. They slipped between the four ships that had broken the ranks and pounced on one before pushing off to the next. The explosions rattled through their claws. Once all four had been dispatched, they turned toward the remaining fleet.

Snarling, they crouched. A sliver of pain trickled to the forefront and they used it to their advantage, strengthening their desire to win, to survive, and a whir started up in their flanks. Pockets shifted off their back, the armour moving aside as turrets spiralled out into space beside them: five, ten, twenty. The size of their paws, the guns rotated around them, caught in their orbit and charging up.

Markers dotted their eyes and the turrets swept out to either side, lining up. Each mark caught. Lights turned green. The turrets fired and they fired alongside it, thick beams of frost tipped light, and the explosions lit up the horizon in columns of fierce flames. The turrets recharged. They locked on once more. The fleet kept coming.

Bounding forward, they fired once again, obliterating the front ranks of the Galra fleet. Diving directly into the fray, they dodged gunfire and targeted the larger gunships, removing them as the turrets kept the smaller ships away from them. Beams of multicoloured light lit up the space around them, explosions rocking them side to side, and they lost two turrets and then two more. Twisting, they gathered power in their mouth and let loose, strings of light distorting a battleship and cleaving off the bridge. The rest of the ship exploded. Two more turrets gone.

Launching into the air, they activated the shoulder cannons. The turrets kept them safe while it charged, and when they fired, it decimated two hangar ships and the final gunship. Four battlecruisers remained, as well as the final Galra battleship, massive and daunting in its size. They hissed at it, a promise thundering in their chest. He – something screamed; he – someone sobbed. They pushed it down. Survive.

Three more turrets went down, smoldering before being blown into dust, and they danced backwards as the fleet pushed forward. D’vix pulled at their paws, its gravity nearly overwhelming. They hovered. The fleet flashed in challenge and they roared back. The battleship fired.

Barely managing to dodge, they lost another turret. Spinning away, they led the beam through two battlecruisers, cutting the fleet down to its last leg. They had to hope it was enough. They had to hope – two blasts rocketed into their side and they spun out of control, barely catching themselves. Pain shot through them and the screaming was back, the sobbing was nearly impossible to ignore, and she couldn’t – he – they had to _survive_. Just survive.

Four minutes.

Staring down the battleship, they panted. D’vix pulled, Hellrit rose in their peripheral, and they were down to ten turrets. Targets arose in their eyes and they lined up. Pulled the trigger. More of the smaller ships disappeared under their onslaught, but the battleship pushed through. They sagged. Three minutes. Lined up as two more turrets disappeared. Fired. The battleship fired back and they just barely managed to dodge, pain blistering over their muzzle and the stretch of their ear. They snarled. The ship lit up with another charge.

They had to take it down. Four smaller ships circled around them, the turrets doing all they could to keep them protected, but an explosion rocked them backwards. Screaming; begging; she couldn’t protect him. They had to keep going. They had no choice.

One minute.

 _Please_.

The battleship fired.

The turrets jumped in front of the blast, taking the brunt of the damage and disintegrating into nothing. The remainder of the blast struck them in the chest, sending them hurtling backwards and into the waiting arms of D’vix’s gravitational force. They tried to push back and out, using the last of their energy to escape its grasp. They roared, pushing, scrambling; desperate. The battleship moved into place above them, waiting. They had no choice. Break free. _Break free_. The battleship charged.

“Lance! We’re here! _Lance_!”

Zero.

The sound of his – their – his name jerked Lance out of the connection and slammed him unceremoniously back into his body. Blue screamed around him. Lance screamed with her, pain overtaking all his senses. His arm was mangled, a bloody mess trapped in the wires of the tracking monitor. He couldn’t see out of his left eye. His throat was shredded pulp but his voice still garbled out, desperation in each cry. His team called for him, alarmed and terrified, and he couldn’t – couldn’t –

The battleship fired and lit up the display, aimed directly at them, and Lance couldn’t do anything to stop it, couldn’t hope to get shields up or move Blue out of the way. His voice petered off. His team shouted for him. Blue reached out, her mind slipping easily against his, so big and loving and filled with certainty. He wrapped himself up in it, wrapped himself in her, and closed his eyes.

They fell.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for a scene change. If you're looking for music to listen to for this chapter, please do listen to [Leaving Earth](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WE8Rhmy8v0E) from the Mass Effect OST. All the thanks to [Lisa](http://butteredonions.tumblr.com//), who puts up with me and HAS SEEN VOLTRON NOW AHAHA. She is hands down my favourite person rn.

If asked, Shiro would have said he would be the first to fall. If asked, Shiro gladly would have put himself in the place of any of his teammates, saved them the possibility of suffering anything more than they had to. If asked, Shiro would say watching the Blue Lion go silent, hearing Lance go quiet, was one of the most terrifying moments of his life.

Black howled around him, her fear feeding into Shiro’s own, and he pushed her harder, pushed her faster, as the battleship charged above Lance and Blue. They weren’t going to make it. He redirected all power to thrusters, trying to give her that bit more of speed, calling for Lance, and heard the others desperately trying to reach him as well. Keith shot by him in a blur of Red.

“Get him, Keith, get him, hurry!” Shiro chanted.

The battleship fired.

Black threw herself in front of the beam, Shiro slamming down the shields right as the blast smashed into them. They were pushed back, the shields cracking but firm, and Black roared her fury. Shiro shouted with her, pushing, and the beam ricocheted off the shield and out into the darkness of space.  

“Hunk! Pidge!” Shiro called. They responded, Yellow slamming into the ion cannon and Green decimating the auxiliary cannon below. He whirled Black around and shot down to where Keith had plummeted after Lance. The atmosphere bled over them in streaks of fire, but Black shrugged it off as she used the added gravity to her advantage. They broke through the cloud cover and could barely make out Keith and Red further below them.

“Keith, report!” Shiro snapped.

Keith’s voice was static terror. “He’s not responding, they’re not responding; I don’t know what happened but Red can’t hear Blue and Lance _isn’t responding_.”

Black swooped down. Red supported an unresponsive Blue, eyes dull and body crackling with electric discharge. As they took Blue from Red’s grasp, horror poured over Shiro in waves. He breathed past the weight in his chest.

“Head back to the Castle,” Shiro said. Red looked at them, her eyes brilliant yellow, and slowly they clouded over with a familiar burning crimson. “Keith, no. Keith!”

With Blue in their possession, they couldn’t stop Keith and Red from rocketing back up, fury obliterating all thought. Shiro cursed. Taking off after them wasn’t an option. They had to get Lance and Blue back to the Castle and back to safety. Nightmares chittered in his ears. Lance came first.

“Hunk, Pidge, back up Keith and Red. They’ve gone off and likely will take out the rest of the ships. Meet me back at the Castle once you’re done.”

“Is Lance…?” Hunk started, voice tiny.

Shiro didn’t have an answer for him. “Make sure Keith comes back okay. Finish off the rest of the fleet.”

As they neared the Castle, Black perked up. A whir of sound greeted him, Blue’s eyes flickering with colour before they dulled again. There was still nothing from Lance, but at least his Lion was okay. That had to mean something.

Allura’s voice came over the comms: “Shiro! Do you have the Blue Lion and Lance?”

“Yes. They aren’t doing well.”

“Coran will meet you in the Black Lion’s hangar immediately.”

“Understood.”

Landing in the hangar, Black gently placed Blue on the ground before Shiro was able to disembark. He nearly tripped when Blue’s eyes flickered again and her mouth fell open, the doorway creaking wide with a hiss. He ran inside.

Blood smeared over the seat and the floor, droplets flung from where Blue obviously hadn’t been able to stop moving. Shiro covered his mouth, gagging against the copper tang in the air. Lance’s left arm was crushed under the targeting display, the bone pushing clear through the skin. Shiro closed his eyes. Breathed out. Hurrying to Lance’s side, Shiro fumbled to get Lance’s helmet off. His left eye was swollen shut and a nasty cut leaked blood over his forehead, parting over his nose and caressing his cheeks. Carefully cradling his head, Shiro searched for a pulse, relief nearly drawing him to the floor when Lance’s pulse beat sluggish against his skin.

“You’ll be okay,” Shiro said, pushing Lance’s hair back. His gaze flicked up to Lance’s arm, mangled almost beyond recognition. A phantom pain tingled over his prosthetic. “It’ll be okay, I promise, we’ll make it okay. You did so well.”

A noise from the entrance and Coran pushed through. He swore in Altean and Shiro waved him over. “We need to get him to a cryo pod, quickly.”

“Of course.”

It took time to get Lance’s arm untangled. Once they’d disabled the wires and divested him of the armour, Shiro helped pull Lance free of the seat and settled him gently on the makeshift stretcher Coran had brought. Bruises were forming beneath his skin already, and the sheer devastation to his arm was impossible to ignore. Shiro’s hands shook. They lifted the stretcher and hurried out of Blue.

Black buzzed against his mind, her uncertainty doing nothing for Shiro’s own. “Take care of Blue. We’ll be back after we get Lance to safety.”

She crouched, her massive head resting against Blue’s shoulder, and Shiro adjusted his grip on the stretcher. Lance hadn’t moved. His silence worried Shiro more than anything else.

The hallways seemed longer than he remembered as they carried Lance through them, Coran keeping up a stream of chatter that Shiro couldn’t understand over the static in his ears. Blood crusted the lines of his Galra hand, _Lance’s_ blood, and Shiro couldn’t breathe through the rush in his chest. The Galra had - he hadn’t - everything looped, suddenly, shadows in the corner of his vision. Lance had been alone and they hadn’t gotten to him in time. Lance had fallen silent and Blue had fallen with him, more than three quarters of a Galra fleet decimated by their attack. Shiro fought against the panic. Not now, not now.  It would be fine. Lance would be _fine_.

As they entered the infirmary, Allura appeared through the opposite door. Her hands rose to her mouth when she caught sight of Lance, gaze distraught, before she moved to his side. “We must reset his arm before putting him in the pod. He won’t be able to use it otherwise.”

A hiss of air rent the silence after her words, the cryo pod opening behind them. Lance didn’t move. Allura reached out and drew her hand over his brow, her eyes closing, and Shiro carefully touched the bloodied path of Lance’s fingers. Sighing, Allura opened her eyes.

“Hold him down. He may be unconscious but his body will react to the pain when I set his arm.”

Swallowing, Shiro moved around to Lance’s shoulders while Coran took hold of his ankles. Carefully, he applied pressure to Lance’s chest and undamaged arm, staring down at the blood smeared jagged over Lance’s cheekbone. “It’ll be okay, Lance. You’ll be okay. I promise.”

Allura set his arm.

Lance didn’t make a sound. His body didn’t respond, didn’t move; there was barely a hitch in his breath. Shiro’s head jerked up, stunned, and Allura bit her lip. “That isn’t – get him in the pod.”

Gingerly, Shiro gathered Lance in his arms, careful to keep from jostling him too hard. His heartbeat still sang against Shiro’s skin, and he was warm and alive, but something was wrong. The pod shushed closed with Lance inside, and his vitals rose on the holographic. Allura typed in a few numbers, her brows pinching together, and Shiro pressed his hand against the glass.

“He’ll be okay, right?”

“Yes,” Allura said immediately. She paused, her nails tapping against the screen. “Yes. A few days’ time in the pod and he should be fine. There is a – worry, but I believe it to be mechanical in nature and not a reflection of Lance’s mental state.”

Shiro cut his gaze to her. “Allura?”

Meeting his look head on, Allura said, “There is a slight anomaly with Lance’s brain waves. They are muted, more so than usual when someone has been hurt this badly.”

“What does that mean?”

Bringing her thumb to her mouth, she worried the nail. “Did anything happen with your Lion while you were en route to Lance?”

Brows furrowing, Shiro thought back. Black _had_ gone frantic ten minutes out. He hadn’t been able to gauge what was wrong but the rest of the Paladins had responded that they were experiencing the same issue. Something had set Black off, her fear skyrocketing, and they had managed to shave off a few seconds on the jump. Not enough to save Lance. Not enough to save Blue. Shiro clenched his hand.

“There was – something. Collectively, the Lions reacted to something ten minutes before we arrived at D’vix.”

Allura turned to him. “What was it?”

“I don’t know. Black would know more. She wouldn’t state what was wrong, just that we needed to hurry.”

Nodding, Allura dropped her arms. “We won’t know anything more until the rest of the Paladins arrive back. Lance will remain in cryo until the worst of his wounds have been healed, and Coran will monitor his brain waves from here to see if the anomaly is just that, or if it is cause for concern.”

“Understood.”

“I will keep you appraised of the situation with the other Paladins. If anything changes, you will need to return to your Lion.”

Shiro nodded, waiting until Allura had left the room before he turned back to Lance. Bruises marred the lines of his face, blood frozen at his fingertips. Shiro knocked his knuckles against the glass.

“Please be okay.”

 

It wasn’t mechanical error. Something was wrong with Lance’s mind, and when Coran gently broached the subject over dinner, Keith sucked in a breath. Red still raged against the edges of his thoughts, but he’d managed to calm her bloodlust just enough to get them back to the castle. With this proclamation, Red went silent with her own shock.

It wasn’t mechanical error.

They hadn’t gotten to him in time and it wasn’t – it –

Keith stood, chair skidding back with a terrible screech, and stormed away from the table. No one called him back. No one followed him. Red’s silence was worse than her rage, because he could understand the anger, he could understand the fury, but the _silence_. She knew something. She’d known from the moment they exited the portal, her thoughts screaming for Blue, her despair buffeting Keith raw. She knew and she would _tell him_ , dammit.

Keith blew into the hangar and Red immediately brought up her particle barrier. “Don’t you dare.” Keith marched forward, slamming his hand into the force field, trembling. “Red, I swear. You let me in right now. Let me in!”

She cut herself off from him, completely, and the shock of losing her thoughts was like a dash of ice water down the back of his neck. Keith froze, fingers splayed wide over the barrier, and stared up at her dark eyes. She’d never – she hadn’t –

“What did Blue do to Lance?” he demanded.

Red snarled, her thoughts rushing him, and Keith crumpled under the weight. The particle barrier dissolved and Red crouched low, her rumble bucking the floor beneath him.

All at once, she assailed him with what Blue had done, what she _had_ to do, and Keith sucked in breath after breath as emotion assaulted him. Blue had made a choice, had chosen to protect her Paladin over everything else, had removed the barrier that kept their minds separate in a last ditch effort to keep him _alive_. Blue was made of loyalty and faith and love and her connection with Lance was a joyous and alive thing, so bright that the other Lions could feel it when she interacted with him. Lance could not die. Blue would not allow him to die.  So, she did not.

But a mind was fragile, and humans more so, and she’d lost her connection to Lance when she lost consciousness. Lance’s mind was gone, scattered to the stars, and even if his body remained alive, it did not matter. He was a shell. Blue had failed. Lance was dead.

Red retreated, her snarl reverberating through the hangar. Keith rolled over and heaved, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of emotion Red had just drowned him in. His own thoughts churned, vicious and ugly. She had to be wrong: Lance wasn’t dead, he couldn’t be dead. He was in the infirmary. He had knocked their foreheads together before going on recon. He had slept -

Keith heaved again, trembling. Red towered over him, her thoughts shifting to apology but Keith shoved her away. She was wrong. Lance couldn’t be gone. He tried to push himself upright, but his strength gave out and he dropped to his elbows. Tears caught in his eyes, dropping fat and thick against the hangar floor. Lance wasn’t dead. He _wasn’t_.

“You’re wrong,” Keith croaked out. Red worried along his thoughts, apologies bumping against his own conviction. “Stop it. You’re wrong. Lance wouldn’t just leave like that.”

Sorrow followed Red’s retreat, despair a cloud around her thoughts. Her message had not been understood, and Keith scoffed at that. It wasn’t a message, it was a death sentence. And Keith refused. Shoving himself to his knees, Keith wiped at his mouth. He had to inform the others, had to figure out a way to gather Lance’s mind from wherever Blue had sent it.

He staggered out of the hangar, gasping as Red’s thoughts still clung like tinsel to his own. He hadn’t known their Lions could do such a thing, that they could take - that they could lose - He sucked in a breath. The walls blurred in his vision.

Stumbling down the hallway, Keith tried to think of a solution. If Blue had lost Lance when she lost the connection, perhaps when she woke that would re-establish the link and allow for Lance’s return. He couldn’t be dead. Keith refused. He slammed his hand into the dining hall button and pushed his way inside.

“We have a problem,” he said to the rest of the room, and everything descended into chaos.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All my thanks to the darling [Lisa](http://butteredonions.tumblr.com//) who puts up with me whining about this fic and claps every time I add on another 1k to it. Sigh. If you're looking for music this time around, [Blinding](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Da6bBKLPEGg) was one of the songs I used while writing this chapter. I hope you all enjoy!

Lance woke.

It took him a moment to open his eyes, lashes tacky. Water lapped at his shoulders, sloshing up and against the edges of his ears, and he stretched his arms until his fingertips touched hot sand. The sky above was ( _l_ _aser, stars, Blue_ ) cloudless and the sun was the perfect counterpoint to the frigid ocean tugging at him. Lance pushed himself upright. He yawned.

“Lance!”

_Lance!_

Frowning, Lance stuck a finger in his ear right as a small child barrelled into his side, sending water splashing in an arc around them. Sputtering, Lance wiped the salt from his face, and Izzy slapped her hands down against his chest. They were at the beach. Right. Sonja had wanted to bring her little ones to the beach before - before -

Dropping his head back into the water, Lance winced. Why did Sonja want to come to the beach? Why had he fallen asleep? Something was - weird. Christ, his head hurt. Izzy grabbed his attention, smacking her hands against him once again. She pushed out her lower lip, hair spiky and tangled by the ocean breeze.

“Lance, you _promised_.”

“Did you get it in writing?” Lance laughed when Izzy dug her pudgy knees into his side. For a five year old she was alarmingly strong. “Okay, okay, truce. What did I promise you?”

“You promised you’d build a castle with me!” Izzy pushed off of him, knees in his stomach, and Lance gasped. She splashed water at him. “Hurry! We have to win!”

“Now we’re trying to win? Bubble, you can’t beat the ocean.”

Not to be deterred, Izzy grabbed his arm and tugged until Lance was forced to his feet, stooping so she could maintain her hold on him. She led him away from the water to a half made castle in the pristine sands. He flinched, gaze skittering over the towers, and ( _Castle, ambush, Bluuuuu_ ) Izzy dropped his hand to pick up her toy bucket and green shovel.

“Mami says we need a boat.”

Plopping down in the sand beside the castle, Lance rubbed at his left eye. “A boat?”

“Something to keep the water out!”

“I think she meant moat, though that’ll do jack all once the ocean comes in.” He couldn’t look directly at the castle without pain sparking over his temples. Weird. “Well, let’s get started then.”

It was hard work, mostly because Lance couldn’t touch the castle or help Izzy build the towers without immediately being assaulted with blinding agony. He made do with the moat, creating it in tiers, and Izzy built up her tiny castle in the middle, with its surprisingly detailed towers and pretty shells for windows. The yellow sun beat down on the back of his neck, trickling warmth over his skin, and by the time the tide tugged at his toes he was sticky with sweat and sand, salt from the wind burning his lips.

Staggering to his feet, he guided Izzy away from the castle as the ocean rushed forward. She pressed her feet against his, lifting her hands for him to catch, and he rocked her back and forth while they witnessed the castle put up a valiant effort. Nausea rolled in the pit of his stomach. Izzy cried out when the first tower fell against the ocean’s onslaught, tugging at Lance’s hands. Lance followed when she went to defend her castle, his toes sinking into the sand. Fat tears caught in her eyelashes as another tower fell.

“Hey, now, it’ll be okay,” Lance said.

 _You’ll be okay_.

Blinking, Lance looked around. Izzy sniffed, wiping her hand over her nose before she tried to push the rapidly advancing ocean away from her deteriorating castle. Shaking his head, Lance scooped her up and perched her on his hip. “We’ll make another one when the tide isn’t so mean, okay?”

She pushed at his shoulder, squirming against him, before she settled. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

_I promise, Lance. You’ll be okay._

Izzy bumped her wet nose against his shoulder as Lance jammed his pinkie in his ear again, squinting at the figures lining the beach. There wasn’t anyone close enough to _say_ anything like that, let alone know his name. And whatever it was seemed to be responding in some way to what he was saying. His head panged again, a quick streak of pain over his brows, and he flinched.

“Lance?” Izzy asked.

Jostling Izzy against his hip, he rubbed his toes in the sand. It was fine. Just hearing words that no one else could hear. That was normal. And random bouts of pain. No - no problem. “Should we go find your mama, Bubble?”

“I guess.”

“There’ll be plenty of days we can make more castles. We’ll beat the ocean next time, yeah?”

Izzy smiled, gap-toothed and dimpled. “Yeah.”

“That’s my girl. Now, where did we leave your parents?”

Turning in a circle, Lance scanned the edges of the beach, hoping to spot Sonja amongst the beach-goers. It was a bit ridiculous this time of year; the amount of bodies tended to triple and whenever Lance tried to find an easy patch of ocean to surf, he was always overrun. The sun beat down on his head. He couldn’t find Sonja. She wouldn’t have just left him here, not with Izzy, not with her precious eldest. Sure enough, when he took another look, he caught her oversized black hat and ridiculous sunglasses just down the beach. There hadn’t been – had there been someone there before?

Securing Izzy against his hip, he made his way over to his lounging sister and her packed red cooler. Gary wasn’t anywhere in sight, though he was likely off somewhere with Teddy if the lack of the stroller was any indication. An umbrella filled with startling colours caught the light, turning it a near blinding white, and Lance shaded his eyes. Izzy shaded hers.

“Sonja!”

Sonja flicked her glasses down, sleepy brows crawling up. Her lips twisted up at the corners. “Did you lose against the tide, _manito_?”

“Hardy har. We decided we’d live to fight another day,” Lance said, depositing Izzy on her mother’s lap. “I thought we were meeting everyone here?”

“They’re on their way.” Sonja picked up Izzy, pressing her lips against Izzy’s chubby cheeks. “Did you have fun with _tio_ Lance, _mija_?”

“Always, mami. Can I have a juice?”

Sonja reached over to the cooler while Lance glanced at the blue water. A shiver crawled up his spine, tingling out and over his left shoulder, and he winced. The sun sparkled heavily off the sand. Lance closed his eyes.

When he opened them, the party was in full swing. His cousins ran past him, shrieking as wet sand was flung to and fro, and Lance dodged out of the way with a laugh. A red fire lit the ensemble of umbrellas into brilliant yellows, and darkened the green chairs into black eerie shapes. The sky above was a shimmering curtain of stars.

Picking his way through the crowd of relatives, Lance searched for his mother’s cloud of hair amongst the madness. He found her talking with his siblings, her braid already coming loose in curls, and he tapped her twice on the wrist to get her attention.

“Mama,” he said, and she whirled, her smile already brilliant and loving.

“Lance, _cariño,_ where have you been?” Though she’d woken him up this morning, she wrapped her arms tight around his waist and squashed her face to his chest as though it had been years. Lance swallowed against a sudden surge of emotion, thick and impossible to decipher, and bent forward to bury his face in her hair. She smelt of raspberry jam and fire smoke. He inhaled and nearly sobbed, his eyes burning as he hugged her tighter.

She spoke against his skin. “Do not cry, _cariño_. I am here.”

“I know, mama. I know.” He pulled back, wiping at the tears yet unfallen, and she reached up to touch his cheeks. He smiled for her and she took his hands.

“Shall you show me the stars again?”

Nodding, Lance tugged his mother away from his siblings. They navigated the crowd, stopping occasionally to talk quickly to an uncle or an aunt. A yawning desperation opened in Lance’s stomach, an urge to show his mother the stars, to have her reassure him of – something. They broke through the other end and his mother tucked her hand neatly into the crook of his arm.

“Sonja tells me you built a castle with Isabella today,” she said.

Lance grinned. “Yeah. We lost out against the tide though. Destroyed the whole castle.”

A pang, sharp and quick, in the recesses of his thoughts. It…stung. His mother tugged on his arm and he shoved the sensation away. His left arm hurt. Wet sand clung to his toes, sticking against his ankles, and his mother pointed to the water’s edge.

“Here, here. The best view of the stars is from here.”

They sat down with their toes in the ocean, its tug a gentle lull. The pain faded from his arm and Lance breathed out the tension until he was relaxed, the warmth of his mother beside him, her hand anchored to his elbow. She nudged him. “Tell me of the stars.”

With a smile, Lance looked up. The night sky was a blister of starlight, the moon a ghostly eye perched above the horizon. The wind was a torrent of salt, rushing through his hair and dashing against the cut of his jaw. He breathed in deep and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he exhaled sharply.

“Mama? What’s going on?”

His mother glanced at him, hair rustling over her cheek. “What do you mean, _mijo_?”

His eyes must be playing tricks on him. None of the constellations – none of them were recognizable. They had just been there, they had just been right, and he – they weren’t – he knew his star maps, he studied them extensively. He wanted to be a pilot –

_Lance._

Gasping, Lance dropped his head into his hands. Pain ran tight over his skull, pinpricks of electricity drilling into his mind. The stars were _wrong_. The constellations were _wrong_. A cavernous pit opened in his chest, filled with locked away memories and instances and ( _Blue, Blue, Blue_ ) he couldn’t pick out what was his truth any more. It hurt.

“Mama, it hurts,” Lance gasped. The silence was telling, and he jerked upright to find himself alone in a world turned blind. A ship hovered above him. He was in a seat, he was in _Blue_ , and the cannon above them charged. He couldn’t move, couldn’t get them to safety, couldn’t – they were – they – pain, pain, _pain_.

 _You will be okay_.

It fired.

 

Lance woke.

Rain splattered against his cheeks, washing away the tackiness of his eyelashes. He sputtered, sitting up fast and wiping the water from his mouth and nose. The beach was a wall of rain, the sky above a background of angry clouds churning restlessly. Thunder ( _green light, fire, inhale_ ) rumbled and the lightning ( _starlight, laser fire, Blue Blue Bluuuuu_ ) flashed, blinding him.

Digging his fingers into the wet sand, Lance gathered his thoughts. Why was he at the beach? Had he fallen asleep on the sand? Had a storm rolled in when he was napping? That – that made sense. Yes. That was it. He’d gone to the beach because Taliya wanted seashells for the craft project she was working on and Lance had volunteered to get them for her.

A bag crumpled under his feet when he stood, the delicate _crack_ of a shell sending him reeling. His arm – pain exploded over his senses and he breathed out, kept breathing out, couldn’t seem to get any air at all. His arm, oh god, his _arm_ , and the stars, the ships, he was strapped in. Darkness. The ion cannon charged above them and he couldn’t get free. Blue. Blue, Blue, _Blue_.

_Follow me._

They fell.

 

Lance woke.

Hot sand blistered the backs of his shoulders and the sensitive underside of his knees. He scrambled away from it, gasping as his bare feet scorched over the rolling white sand. Water lapped at the edges, the tide out and growing further away. The sun tumbled down to the horizon and Lance picked his way up toward the shaded sand beneath a palm. Sand gathered and crunched under his toes. He hopped back and forth until the soles of his feet were no longer on fire.

Rubbing the tackiness from his eyes, he surveyed the beach. It was nearly dusk, and most of the tourists had packed up and headed back to their hotel rooms. Others were walking along the boardwalk hand in hand, the sea breeze a playful spectator to their romantic outings. He should get back soon too. His mother would worry if he stayed out past sunset.

Lance crouched and dug his toes into the cool sand beneath the tree. A shimmer of green caught his gaze and he turned toward it, fingers reaching before he could fully comprehend what he was seeing. A thick piece of emerald sea glass jutted out from the sand, catching and spinning the dying sun into every colour of green imaginable. Lance held it up. Discovery waited in the shifting of colour. A whisper of sound in the form of annoyance. The comfort of a hand against his shoulder. The laughter of someone fierce and determined and worth protecting. Intellect. Curiosity. Unimaginable worry. He closed his hand over the glass.

_Pidge._

The name disappeared.

Standing, he tucked the glass into the pocket of his shorts. Liam would like it; he was always collecting the pieces and expanding his collection. The sun was falling faster, sending shadows skittering over the boardwalk and spilling golden light over the oceanfront shops. Eyeing the distance between himself and the safety of the sidewalk, Lance leapt forward and yelped at each step, sand burning, clinging, hurting. When his feet slammed down on the old wood, he breathed out a sigh of relief.

A couple side-eyed him and he saluted them with a grin, bouncing up on his toes to cool his burning heels. Another flash of colour caught in his peripheral: along the railing was a discarded yellow toy shovel. Mesmerized, he walked toward it, and picked it up before he could decipher why. It was well loved, the handle worn delicate with use. Warmth bloomed in his chest. Kindness. Love. Protection. A laugh that could drag him out of his darkest moods. An easy presence and a solidarity that would never waver.

 _Hunk_.

Lance gently placed the shovel back down. Someone would be missing it; he couldn’t take it away from them. But the moment he released the handle, the warmth disappeared. A coldness took its place and he snatched up the shovel again with a gasp. He couldn’t leave it behind; someone might treat it wrong. Izzy would appreciate a well-loved shovel, one that would make her castles bigger and stronger.

He tucked the shovel into his pocket alongside the sea glass, determined to get home before he became distracted again. It was surprisingly difficult, however, to ignore the bunch of red hydrangea petals blooming up out of the sand, mostly because it shouldn’t exist on the beaches. It _shouldn’t_ – the petals curled and fluttered in the breeze, a lure, and Lance was immediately drawn forward. Jumping down from the boardwalk, he made his way over to it, navigating through the shadows to save his feet from the still scorching sand.

He plucked it straight from the sand, its stem giving easy under his hand. The petals bled together, a deep crimson that flooded him with embarrassment and longing and a sliver of happiness so bright it boiled his stomach. There was rivalry in the stem, camaraderie in the petals, and the fledgling burn of love in the floral scent that warmed Lance’s core. He brought the petals to his nose and breathed deep. Strength. Desire. A reckless nature that relied solely on instinct. A hope that family could be found instead of born into.

 _Keith_.

Carefully, he tucked the flower into his other pocket. The pollen stained his fingers when he brushed over the cluster one last time. This treasure he would keep for himself. He smiled, gaze turning back to the horizon and the lap of the waves against the sand. There was one last thing for him to find. He couldn’t leave until he found it.

Combing the beach with the dying light around him was more difficult than he’d expected. The need to find the last piece, to complete the collection, was overwhelming. He didn’t know what he searched for. He didn’t know what would happen when he found it. He scoured the shore and the chunks of driftwood collected at its edges.

The sun was losing its fight to stay above water when Lance found the final piece. It was a charred chunk of driftwood about the size of his thumb, worn down into a soft jagged strip. Hidden pockets of silver flashed as he wondered at it, vulnerability masked by a distorted armour. He drew his fingers over the edge. Determination. Fear. A desperate need to protect and be protected, to be seen and remain unseen. Lance clutched the shard and it settled. Leadership. Loneliness. Loyalty.

 _Shiro_.

With the final piece of his strange collection in hand, Lance dropped the wood into his pocket alongside the flower. The last vestiges of daylight clung with pink fingers to the horizon, the sun a boiling eye falling into the depths of the surf. The seagulls had gone quiet. There were no people walking along the boardwalk. The world was silence and Lance stood on the precipice of discovery. He just needed to –

Lance shoved his hands into his pockets, fingers closing over his treasures, and breathed out. A picture was beginning to form, a memory lodged deep and forgotten. He squeezed the handle of the shovel and the stem of the flower. The sea glass rolled over his knuckles and the charred wood pricked at his palm.

_You will be okay._

Squinting, Lance chased a fleeing sunbeam with his gaze until it disappeared into shadow. The sun was gasping now, darkness shoving it further beneath the surf. The waves marched closer. He walked toward the line where ocean met sand.

 _Hold the line_.

A breeze caught up under his button-down, throwing it open, and Lance shivered against the chill. The sun sputtered, weakening. Twilight crept over the world, smudging the edges of reality. The memory sharpened, gaining traction, and Lance walked into the surf.

The water sucked at his ankles, desperate to trip him up, but he remained steady. The sun reached for him with its remaining twinkles of light. A wave crashed into his thighs, sending him back a few steps, but he was determined. The glint of something beneath the water caught his attention, a good few feet out to where the undercurrent ripped through the tide. It was waiting for him. A trap. A blue seashell caught the remaining trickle of light and shone.

 _Blue_.

The memory shattered wide open, the world fracturing like starlight around him. Lance clung to his treasures. Pidge. Hunk. Shiro. _Keith_. They were waiting for him. Blue. She called to him. The sand splintered under his feet, bleeding away into the darkness of space. The ocean bubbled up and swallowed him whole, a kaleidoscope of billions of stars. The horizon rose as a planet painted in offensive colours: orange and blue and red. Blue.

He closed his eyes.

“Okay.”

Lance woke.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are with the next chapter! All my love to [Lisa](http://butteredonions.tumblr.com//) who smacked me on the nose whenever I thought my writing wasn't good enough. Such a darling. If you're looking for music this time around, [If I Should Return](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oXslwzOguyY) was one of the songs I used while writing this chapter. I hope you all enjoy!

The doors shushed open, spilling light into the quiet of the infirmary. Pidge ducked inside, her computer clutched to her chest and her gaze caught on the single pod in use. She could just make out Lance, still bloodied from the battle, still torn asunder yet healing, frozen within. She stopped in front of the pod.

“You’re worrying everyone, you know?” she said. Lance didn’t respond, and that honestly scared her more than anything. Lance’s silence was something Pidge never thought she’d have to contend with. He was loud. He was always talking. He was a fixed point in time that never _shut up._

Settling down in front of Lance’s pod, Pidge opened her computer. The information from his recon lit up on her glasses as she navigated to his last transmission. Her fingers hovered over the ‘play’ button. She looked up at Lance. Nausea churned in her gut as her ears rang with Lance’s choked cries coming through the comms, his plea for help, his desperation, and his _silence_. She hated silence. She hated Lance’s silence more.

Leaning against the pod, Pidge clicked open another program instead. “We’re hunkered down on D’Vix right now, checking over some systems and, well, you. We liberated a lot of the prisoners from Hellrin. They saw your battle from the transporters. They said it was unlike anything they’d ever witnessed; you destroyed three quarters of an entire Galra fleet. Don’t let it go to your head though.”

She flicked her gaze up to his still face, to the blood frozen over his nose and the bruises slowly healing as the pod worked. Still and silent. Lance wasn’t supposed to be still. He wasn’t good at it. It unnerved her. Tucking her shoulders back against the pod, Pidge brought up her knees and balanced the laptop on them.

“Keith’s going out of his mind with worry right now. It’s only a matter of time before he tries to fight the stars and, as amusing as I think that would be, the longer you’re gone the worse it’ll get. So you have to come back. Obviously. If not for the rest of us, at least so Keith won’t try to hurl himself into the sun because he thinks that’s where you’re hiding.”

Her joke fell flat without the aided help of Lance making it somehow worse, and she sighed. “It was weird coming back from a mission and not having you there, talking and boasting. We -” Each click of the mouse followed the rhythm of Lance’s breathing. “Once we get Blue online again, we’ll figure out what happened and you’ll come back. I know you wouldn’t leave us like that.”

Pidge paused, biting her cheek ragged. He wouldn’t. He – “Right?”

Silence.

She hated his silence.

Shoving the laptop to the floor, she twisted to look at Lance, cheek warm against the cool glass of the pod. Worry wormed at her core. Green nudged against her, curious and consoling, and she closed her eyes. Lance would be fine. He was always fine. That’s just what Lance was. He was certainty. They just had to have faith.

“I didn’t notice before, but you always check up on us after a mission,” Pidge said. “Even when everything goes fine, you’re always there. Why wouldn’t you be here now?”

Silence, silence, silence.

“When I was little, I got lost,” Pidge started. The rise and fall of Lance’s chest was hypnotizing, an assurance she desperately needed. “We went to one of those amusement parks and mom told Matt he had to watch over me and make sure I didn’t wander off. They’d recently upgraded all the security at the park and I wanted to look at how it was done but Matt wouldn’t let me. So, being seven and stubborn, I immediately ditched my brother and went to the central control room.”

Laughing, she lifted her glasses until they caught at her bangs, tucking the entire mess up on her head. “He was so _mad_ when he found me. Mom and dad were furious that he hadn’t taken better care of me and for months after that he would always find me wherever I was just to make sure I hadn’t scurried off again. It’s similar to what you do, actually. You want to make sure we’re all okay, that we haven’t blown up in space, right?”

No answer. Pidge drummed her fingers on her knees, her cheek warming the glass. Lance breathed. The bruise on his forehead was nearly healed. The blood frozen against his arm masked what progress was being made on it. Her fingers itched to find out, to calculate, to diagnose. Computers could lie. The programming could be faulty. She bit her lip.

“I don’t mind the hugs, actually. I know you’re careful with me just like you’re careful with Keith and Shiro. I know you seek out Hunk because you’ve known him longer and – I just thought you should know that I don’t mind. The hugs. I kind of like them. It’s – nice.”

She missed his jokes. She missed his laughter and his boasting and his indignation whenever they called him on his antics. She missed the ease with which he could break tension with an ill-timed pun. He was their certainty, he was their faith, and he was their love. She closed her eyes.

If Lance wasn’t awake, if Lance was truly silence embodied, then maybe saying it out loud wouldn’t jinx it. “You’re part of my family. I can’t lose you, too.”

No response, though she wasn’t expecting one now. The quiet wasn’t a comfort, but Lance’s breathing was, an easy in-and-out, simple to count down to. If she couldn’t have his words, she would take that instead. It would look better in the morning. Lance would be better in the morning.

She fell asleep with that faith in her heart.

 

Taking the elevator down to Black’s hangar, Hunk unrolled one of the schematics to make sure he understood it right. Lance would be fine – _he would be fine_ , no matter what Red said or how Yellow tried to mask her melancholy – and everything would work out. Lance was a certainty, and he would wake, and they would tuck away another near death experience and understand that next time they would be faster. The only thing left to do was to get Blue back online.

Yellow often let Hunk tinker, but she was incredibly easy going and had no issue with him trying to figure out what made her tick. The other Lions were a different story. Blue had always been curious but never really allowed Hunk to touch her without Lance being nearby. With Lance out of action ( _he was fine, he would be_ fine), it was going to take a lot of faith and a hopeful okay from Black to get working on Blue.

The doors opened and Hunk made his way across the massive hangar floor. Blue was sprawled in the middle, her gaze dark. Black’s eyes came online when Hunk got close and she rose her great head to regard him.

“Not sure if Shiro shared the details with you, but I’m hoping I can get Blue back online.” Hunk waved a hand, smiling. Yellow buzzed against his thoughts, reassuring, and he relaxed. “We think if she wakes up, we can figure out what happened to Lance. I want your consent to work on her because she can’t give it to me herself. Is that all right?”

Black didn’t move, her eyes yellow and bright, and Hunk felt a creep of uncertainty crawl up his spine. Yellow purred. He took comfort in her, took strength from her, and tried for another smile. Black nodded and turned her attention back to Blue.

Breathing out, Hunk approached Blue. “Hey, girl, how you doing?” He pressed a hand to the cold metal of Blue’s jaw. “I know you took a major hit, so I’m going to see if I can fix you up, okay? Lance would hate that you’ve been hurt for so long.”

A slight hum from Yellow informed him that Black had given her consent for Hunk to make the repairs, but that he would need to cease the moment Blue woke. Hunk acknowledged the agreement and picked up his toolkit, flipping through it until he found the proper tools.

“Keith told us what you did out there, protecting Lance like that. Whatever what wrong, you’ll get it fixed. You won’t let Lance just scatter like that, will you?” Gently, he eased open the panel by the hinge of Blue’s jaw, clicking the switch that would open her main hatch. Her jaw inched open and he crawled through to the door.

The scene inside sent him reeling. Shiro hadn’t said – oh _god_ , the blood. All of Lance’s blood. The quieted panels were streaked with it and the left side of the seat was splattered thick. Hunk covered his nose and breathed sharply, swallowing against the bile, against the terror. His eyes burned. His ears buzzed with Lance’s scream, with his plea, and Hunk closed his eyes. Yellow pressed against his mind, warm and comforting, and he sucked in a breath.

“I’m okay. Lance is okay. It’ll be fine.”

He crouched and picked up his tools, hands shaking as he skirted his way around the seat. The main panel above took some getting in to, and when he removed the metal, a dark tunnel awaited him. Getting up would be no small feat, especially with how high it was and – he swallowed. The chair. He’d have to use the chair to hoist himself up.

Gingerly, he stood against the seat, ignoring the blood, ignoring the metallic tang in the air, ignoring, ignoring, until he was able to haul himself up. It was a tight squeeze, and more than once he caught his forehead against the overhang above. He paused when the ceiling heightened and he could stretch again, groaning at the pang in his lower back. Pulling the schematics out, he navigated to where he was currently located and tried to find the final compartment to Blue’s main power source.

Light caught on a thick metal door, four times his height and three times his width. He rolled up the plans and approached it, peering around for a way to open it. The door groaned as he neared it, a hiss of displaced air rushing out and over him. He threw up his arms, wincing against the heat, and when it settled Hunk stared. A brilliant blue light spilled out from behind the doorway. With caution firmly in mind, he skirted the edge of the door and popped his head around the side to get a better look.

The chamber was massive and filled with a plethora of wires and walkways. The walls were lined with heavy metal, and pulsating with a sluggish jelly like substance that fed straight to the center component. Everything was dusted in a faint blue light, growing brighter the longer Hunk lingered on the outskirts.

He stepped inside and the air stilled, just for a moment, before the blue glow expanded. It warped his vision, blinding him to the impossibility of what he was seeing. In the center of the chamber, unbelievably bright, was an electric brain made of dense circuitry and complex wiring.  Hunk stalled. The blue light spilled over his shoes, motes of light catching in the spaces between his fingers, bouncing off the edges of his shoulders. The Lions – they had brains. They had _brains_.

The door shushed closed gently behind him and Hunk was immediately immersed in the complexity of the Lion’s mind. Everywhere he looked, light shone. Whether it was an image or a thought, a possibility or a word, it spiralled out beyond him. He reached up and touched one of the pulsing lights and it expanded outwards. He touched it again and it started, a quick pause before he was looking at –

Lance. The image was Lance, sitting in the pilot seat and laughing, joking. Lance, fiddling with programs and wires and asking, always asking, if this was okay. Lance, curled up in the pilot seat with his jacket as a blanket and Blue’s purr humming all around him. Blue’s thoughts were coloured with love, with happiness so iridescent that Hunk pressed his palms to his eyes to hide from the glow. The memory stopped, shrunk back to its original size, and Hunk wiped at the tear tracks over his cheeks.

He nodded. “Let’s get him back.”

Unfurling the plans, he scanned them quickly before making his way around to the main breaker on the opposite side of the walkway. Lined up before the brain were three large metal boxes, filled with switches and Altean instruction. The light motes shone with memories, with curiosities, and they flitted in front of him, a temptation. Hunk refrained from touching them. These were Blue’s innermost thoughts. All of this was Blue’s, completely and impossibly, and she _should_ be sharing it with Lance.

Crouching, he spread out his tool belt and opened the first of the boxes. The instructions dictated what he needed to do and he went about rebooting the part of Blue that would bring her back online. The complexity of it was surprisingly easy once he flicked the first switch, and the motes shivered around him. The sluggish jelly substance suddenly moved faster. Hunk closed the first box and opened the next one.

It was hard work, but he enjoyed it. Briefly, he wondered if Yellow had a similar chamber in her head, if she would allow him inside or if that was asking too much. Her thoughts were distant, drowsy and lazy, and he smiled at the hope of sharing something like this with her. The second switch came online and the lights flickered, growing brighter. The jelly rushed to and fro beneath his feet. He closed the box and opened the final one.

His fingers lingered on the switch, and he looked up at Blue’s brain, at her motes of light and her complexity made simple, and thumbed it on. The shudder beneath his feet nearly sent him toppling. Closing the box, he gathered his tools and headed for the door. He needed out before she woke. Hunk refused to betray Blue’s trust before he gained it.

When he dropped down into the pilot chamber, he gagged at the smell of blood once more. It was quick work getting the plate back into place and he screwed it on tight so that she wouldn’t notice. The panels around him were lighting up, blue light spilling out between the cracks, and Hunk hopped down from the chair and jogged out the door.

“Yellow, I could use you right about now!” Hunk said, and she came awake in an instant. Her thoughts rumbled against his, distant but still there, and Hunk leapt out of Blue’s mouth as her eyes flickered on.

The roar was unexpected. So was her standing in one quick motion, her thunderous steps bucking the floor and nearly sending Hunk sprawling. He caught himself on his hands and pushed himself upright, whirling to face Blue as she made a beeline for the door.

Black intercepted, pouncing on her and pinning her to the ground. Hunk stumbled backwards. Yellow was pinging surprise all over his thoughts and he tried to tell her to stay, that he was okay, that it would be fine. Blue rolled and Black rolled with her, the two Lions scraping sparks against each other. Blue retreated to the back of the room, her tail lashing and her mouth open, blue particles gathering behind her teeth. Black flared her wings. Hunk was going to die.

With a quick lunge, Black managed to knock Blue off her feet again, sending her careening into the far wall. Black followed Blue down, teeth against Blue’s throat. Except Blue was still sparkling, still blue behind her teeth, furious and determined. She was going to shoot Black. No. No, no, _no_.

“Hey!” Hunk shouted. Blue jerked and Black pinned her tighter. Hunk ran forward. “Stop it! Both of you! Lance doesn’t have the time for this! He comes first!”

Yellow was yelling in his mind now, her panic sticking to his thoughts. He was basically up against two giant sentient robots, both which could blow him clean off existence if they wanted to without needing to expend any energy. But Lance was priority one. They needed him. _Hunk_ needed him.

Black’s gaze flicked to him, glittering and guarded, and Hunk slowed his approach. There was nothing physically he could do, nothing to intervene on Blue’s behalf except for his words. Yellow’s thoughts grew closer. Dammit. “Both of you need to _stop_. We don’t have enough room in this hangar for all the Lions, and if you keep up with this, we’re about to have a Voltron party and not the fun kind. Lance comes first. Understood?”

With a huff, Black released Blue and walked away, tail flicking with irritability. Blue halted her charge, darkness replacing the light, and Hunk sagged. Yellow slammed through the top of the hangar and landed in front of him.

“I’m fine!” Hunk shouted as Yellow crouched low, her giant jaw sliding in front of him. “It’s fine, she just woke up and was a bit disoriented, we _really_ don’t need a Voltron party in here right now.”

Yellow rumbled, still crouched low, still protective, and Hunk placed a hand against her jaw. Her thoughts roiled against his, uncertainty about her sister’s actions, uncertainty about Hunk’s safety, _uncertainty_. He ran both hands along her metal surface, broadcasting as much reassurance as possible.

Once she’d calmed beneath his touch, he asked, “Can you ask Blue what happened to Lance and how we can fix it?”

Yellow hunkered down further, and Hunk rubbed his hands over her jaw while she inquired. The reaction from Blue was immediate and visceral: her head snapped up and to the ceiling and the low rumble of her thrusters came online. Black was faster, pinning her down once more, and her cry was frustration and unimaginable sadness. Hunk swallowed.

At first it was fragments, quick thoughts that Hunk couldn’t catch fast enough to interpret. Yellow hummed, trying again, and it clicked: he was hearing Blue’s thoughts. He was – oh _wow_. They were a disjointed mess, panic and fear and indescribable worry colouring each thought a panicked neon. Hunk sorted through them with Yellow’s help. They needed a way to save Lance, to bring him back. How could they save him? How could Blue save him?

The thought came through tinged with blue certainty: if Blue could re-establish her connection to Lance, she could bring him back from whatever state he had been scattered to when she lost consciousness. She would need to guide him. But there was uncertainty there, there was impossibility. If he did not wish to return, she would not be able to gather his thoughts from the stars.

But she would try. She would _try_ and she would win because Lance was hers. She just needed time to settle and the only way she would settle was if she was certain that his fragile human body was still intact. Hunk remembered motes of light, remembered Lance laughing and Lance asking and Lance sleeping. He closed his eyes with a small smile.

“So, she needs to see him?” Yellow rumbled. “He’s still in cryo healing, but Allura said that they have him on an accelerated program. I think we can take him out pretty quick and bring him downstairs.”

Whatever Yellow had relayed calmed Blue down significantly. She sagged under Black’s weight, her jaw hitting the floor with a thud, and Hunk caught himself against Yellow. Black settled down beside her, head on her shoulder, and Yellow relaxed across from them.

“Are we all friends now? Are we all okay? I’d rather not have to go through that all again, thank you.” Yellow purred, her thoughts coloured with amusement, and Hunk tapped his knuckles against her jaw. “Okay, well, I’m going to get the rest of the team and we’ll see how quickly we can get Lance down here to establish the connection. Are you sure this’ll work?”

The uncertainty was still there, but it was tinged with determination. Hunk understood. “Tell Blue that we’ll be back soon and not to worry. We’ll get Lance back.”

Hurrying away from the settled Lions, Hunk caught a hand against the elevator wall as the door closed. His heart rabbited fast in his chest. Holy Quiznak, he’d been seconds away from being a Hunk sized pancake. Yellow tended to pace when Hunk was tinkering on her, but he’d never seen the Lions move like _that_. His knees shook. Yellow rumbled a query and Hunk reassured her once more.

Focus. It was time to bring Lance back.

 

Launching himself at Shiro, Keith ducked under Shiro’s first strike and into his space, slamming a fist into his side before Shiro caught him around the shoulders. They twisted together, Keith on his toes and Shiro trying to maintain his grip. Keith broke free. Shiro backed off. Fury pumped red hot through his blood, anger and uncertainty and a refusal to believe that –

Keith wasn’t stronger than Shiro but he _was_ faster, pivoting away from Shiro’s grasp and snapping out a leg to catch behind Shiro’s knees. Shiro twisted, hand clamping down on Keith’s thigh, and he yanked up. The mat rose up and Keith slammed his jaw into the unforgiving floor. It didn’t matter. The pain _didn’t matter_. Keith spun to his knees and then to his feet, charging forward with a cry.

They twirled together and apart, Shiro breathing out against every hit Keith landed, absorbing the strikes and unleashing them back on Keith tenfold. Keith gasped when Shiro landed a hit to his stomach, his arms wrapping around Keith’s chest when he bowed forward, everything going upside down. Keith grabbed at his waist, threw his calves around Shiro’s neck, and punched his thigh as he crunched forward. Shiro grunted, scrambling for a hold, and Keith threw him off.

Breathing out, Keith pushed to his feet and rushed to where Shiro was crouched, gasping. He couldn’t allow Shiro to recover. He slammed down and Shiro dodged, his human arm catching against Keith’s chest and thrusting him away. He couldn’t get Shiro down, no matter how he circled, how he struck out, and Shiro bore him to the mat once more.

“Fuck,” Keith panted, sweat catching on his chin and dropping against the mat. He refused. He _refused_.

Shiro backed off, creating distance, and Keith bit back a cry of pure rage. It bundled and tore at his chest, a live thing with perforated teeth that chewed him alive. _Lance, Lance, Lance._ He caught Shiro’s movement out of the corner of his eye and snarled, pushing himself up and darting straight for him.

“Guys! Blue’s awake!” Hunk called.

Keith jerked his head to the side and Shiro took the opening, sliding under his defenses and grabbing his left side and under his thigh, before he flipped him down onto the mat. Keith yelped, struggling for a hold, but Shiro captured both arms and pinned him easy. The anger twisted, boiling, and Keith fought. Shiro pulled harder.

“Keith,” Shiro said, a command disguised in his name, and Keith’s feet scrambled. He couldn’t stop, he couldn’t _stop_ , he needed to do something before the uncertainty tore him apart. Shiro didn’t let up, waiting.

“I yield,” Keith grated out.

Shiro released him immediately, rolling off to the side. He popped to his feet. “She’s awake? That’s great, Hunk. Do we know if she can help Lance?”

Keith swallowed down bile, yanking his thoughts back into order. Everything was tinged furious red. Pushing himself to his feet, he rotated out his shoulder and followed Shiro over to Hunk.

Hunk nodded. “I think so. Yellow said she just needs to see Lance to get him back. If we can get him out of cryo and down to Black’s hangar, then it should work. Though there could be a slight – hiccup.”

“Of course there is,” Keith said, rubbing at his face. “What’s the big issue?”

The pause was worrying. The way Hunk swallowed and looked away was worse. “Lance has to want to come back.”

Shiro’s surprise was only visible in the brief widening of his eyes. Keith swallowed a gasp, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. He pushed through it. “What do you mean he has to want to come back? Of course he wants to come back.”

“I can’t really give you any more information than that. Blue wasn’t really in her right mind. She was a bit desperate to get to Lance, actually; Black had to subdue her.”

Keith’s vision greyed. Shiro sounded far away, at the end of a long tunnel filled with impossible wind. “Okay. We get Lance out of cryo and to Blue and hope this entire thing works out. Is there anything we can do to make it easier on them?”

Hunk shook his head, hands spread wide. “I have no idea. We can ask Blue when we get Lance down to the hangar, but otherwise I think we’re all just going to have faith in both of them.”

Nodding, Shiro clapped Keith on the shoulder, shocking him out of his thoughts. “Let’s go, then. We have a team member to save.”

They separated in the hall, Shiro heading for Allura and Keith and Hunk turning to the infirmary. Keith clenched his fingers, the sting of Shiro’s final attack still lingering in his shoulder. Lance would be fine. Of course he would want to come back. He wouldn’t just – they’d said – he _had_ to come back.

Licking his lips, he said, “Do you think Lance was unhappy here?”

Hunk glanced at him. “I don’t think he was unhappy, but it certainly wasn’t where he wanted to be a lot of the time.”

That – stung. But Keith knew it was true, had spent quite a few nights with Lance in the observatory listening to his stories about his family and how amazing they all were and how much he missed them. The tingling spread to his palm. It wasn’t as though Keith was the end choice here; he knew that. Their relationship was fledgling at best, a quick kiss and a confession that hadn’t cultivated in anything more. Keith was always second choice. That was fine. That was _fine_.

A nudge to the shoulder and Keith startled. Hunk smiled at him. “Hey, don’t worry about it. Lance’ll come back, I’m certain of that. He wouldn’t leave any of us behind.”

“We don’t know what he’s seeing right now; we don’t know where he is or what’s happening,” Keith said, words clipped as they gained momentum. “For all we know, he’s being fed his ideal situation and he’s just going to stay there, scattered, and I’ll – _we’ll_ never get him back.”

“Hey, Keith, whoa, you’re sprinting right through the stages of grief there.” Hunk caught his shoulders and Keith couldn’t feel his arm at all, it was all tingles spread over numbness, and what if Lance truly didn’t want to come back? He deserved happiness, he _did_ , but Keith wanted him. Keith needed him.

Hunk shook him, jarring him out of the spiral. “Get out of your head.”

“Where else am I supposed to think?” Keith asked.

“You’re _thinking_ yourself into a dangerous corner.” Hunk massaged his fingers into Keith’s shoulder and the tingle immediately dissipated. Keith relaxed. “We just have to have faith that Lance will come back to us. That’s all there is.”

“That’s all there is,” Keith repeated dully and Hunk released him. “How do you keep up your faith in him?”

“Lance hasn’t let me down yet,” Hunk said. “He’s a bit immature, sure, but when push comes to shove, he’s always there and I don’t doubt that he always will be. He’s stubborn that way. I’m sure he’s trying to figure out how to get his own mind out of the stars right now. He just needs a little nudge in the right direction.”

“You’re certain.”

“When it comes to Lance? Always.”

Keith mulled that over as they entered the infirmary, the lights flicking on. Pressed against Lance’s pod and asleep sat Pidge, her glasses bundled up in her bangs and laptop open to the mission report. Hunk knelt to wake her and Keith finally got his first look at Lance since the whole fiasco. It was a sucker punch to the gut, harsh and unexpected. Blood caked Lance’s arm, frozen in time, and a rivet cut into the sharp jut of his cheekbone. Lingering bruises had lessened to splotches of purple. He was silent. Keith stepped forward.

“We woke up Blue,” Hunk said as Pidge rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Keith reached out, careful, careful, fingers shaking as they touched the glass of the pod. Lance breathed, in and out. Keith matched up their breaths, the warmth from the previous night invading his mind. Twenty four hours ago, Lance had been fine. They had fought over the blankets. They had – they had kissed. He clenched his fingers.

“Do you really think it’ll be that easy?” Pidge asked, and Keith glanced over at her. Her bangs were in disarray around her face, tear tracks sticky against the corners of her eyes.

“Well, it’s not like we have any other ideas,” Hunk said, “and Blue was pretty adamant that this was the solution. I think it’s best we trust her on this.”

The side door opened and Shiro walked in with Allura, her hair a cloud of silver around her head. Allura smiled tiredly at them. “I have been informed of the situation.”

“We have to get him to Blue,” Keith said.

“I was made aware, yes.” Allura approached the panel, fingers fast over the keys. “Unfortunately, Lance requires more time in the cryo before we can safely remove him. If taken out too early, his arm will be unusable.”

Startled, Keith’s gaze zeroed in on the blood caked mess of Lance’s arm. Hunk stepped forward. “Blue’s beside herself and I don’t know how long Black and Yellow can keep her calm. How long?”

“It would be best if he was in cryo for an entire day. I understand the need for urgency, but we cannot risk Lance’s wellbeing on a hunch.”

“His _mind_ is gone!” Keith snapped. Screams rang in his ears and then bleeding silence. “What does it matter if his body is fine if his mind stays lost?”

“Keith.” Shiro pressed a palm to his shoulder, steadying, and Keith breathed out. “The princess is right; Lance’s health is important here, especially since we don’t know how taxing getting his mind back will be. Is there a safe point where we can remove him?”

Allura tapped a few more buttons, frowning. “A few hours, though he cannot stay out for long, and we must be very careful with moving him.”  

The waiting was worse now, knowing a solution was within their grasp but unable to act on it. Keith leaned against the pod, gaze tracing the lines of Lance’s face. Pidge and Hunk talked in quiet whispers. Shiro finished his conversation with Allura before making his way over to Keith, bumping their shoulders together.

“He’ll be okay.”

Ice crystals had gathered on Lance’s eyelashes. Keith ground his teeth. “How can you know for sure?”

“I have to believe he will be,” Shiro said.

“We don’t know what he’s seeing out there. We don’t know if he even wants to come back.” Keith spread his palm wide over the center of the pod, pressing. Unease festered in his gut. “He wasn’t happy here.”

“He missed his family but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t happy here.”

Keith held his breath, waiting to match up with Lance, and synced up. Shiro stayed as a silent shadow beside him, arms crossed and fingers tapping against his bicep. The waiting was the worst. What if they’d had the opportunity to bring Lance back but needing to wait had dashed it away? What if Lance was where he wanted to be, with family and back on Earth? Who would come back to war when peace was just a dream away?

“Keith,” Shiro said. Keith slid his gaze over to Shiro’s, exhausted. “He’ll come back. Don’t do him the disservice of thinking he won’t.”

The unease crawled, but Shiro was right. Hunk was certain. Shiro was certain. Keith couldn’t – he breathed out and waited. All they could do was wait.

Shiro left to go check on the Lions and to calm Blue further if necessary. The minutes dragged on, neverending, and when Allura finally approached the panel again, Keith was a bundle of barely restrained movement.

She typed quickly, scanning the readout, and nodded. “He is mostly out of danger now, though only just. We must be careful not to jostle him when moving him as that will push back his healing. I do hope this works.”

With a quick press of her hand, the pod hummed and the barrier dissolved around it. Keith tipped forward, his palm sliding over Lance’s stomach before he caught him. Blood dripped quickly from Lance’s fingers, splashing against the inside of the cryo, and the smears against his cheeks glistened with renewed freshness. He didn’t move. Keith swallowed.

“Here,” Hunk said, approaching from the side. “We can’t jostle him too much.”

It wasn’t what Keith wanted, but he knew Hunk was right. Carefully, he helped Hunk gather Lance in his arms. A smudge of purple still lingered on Lance’s cheek and Keith brushed his fingers over it, his chest tight with uncertainty and a fear he dared not name. Allura led the way out of the infirmary.

It was slow going. Red tentatively reached out and Keith pushed her away, his grief like armour, and she shied from his sorrow. He caught one of Lance’s lax hands, his fingers ice cold from the cryo but gaining warmth. Keith rubbed more heat into his skin, waiting for the colour to return.

When they exited out into Black’s hangar, Shiro was waiting for them. Blue was trapped beneath Black, her gaze dimmed low, but immediately came to life when they arrived. She pushed up and Black allowed her, stepping back to settle beside Yellow. Keith released Lance and hooked his fingers in his pockets, trying to find solace in familiarity. Hunk walked toward Blue with Lance tucked carefully in his arms.

“All right, what do you need me to do?” Hunk asked. Yellow tilted her head and Keith brought a thumb up to his mouth, wishing that Red was here, that she could translate. The thought dissipated, his irritation with her too strong to ignore. Hunk nodded, settling on the floor with Lance tucked in his arms. Blue folded down in front of him, her nose dipping and her eyes going dark.

“What do we do now?” Keith asked.

Pidge cocked her head to the side, before she sighed. “We wait.”

Shiro crossed his arms. “We hope it works.”

Frustration flexed the lines of Keith’s fingers and he stepped forward, hyperaware of the two Lions watching him from above and the other one that was currently trying to bring Lance back. No one called to him. He folded himself down beside Hunk, acknowledging him with a short nod, and took Lance’s hand again.

Lance had to come back. Lance had to _want_ to come back.

Keith bowed his head. Faith. Certainty. He was certain of his affection for Lance. He had faith in their ability to work as teammates and friends and potentially more. He wanted Lance back.

 _Please_.

Just give him Lance back.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very dear to me. It was the whole reason I wrote 'ghost of a king'. I hope you all like it. All my love to [Lisa](http://butteredonions.tumblr.com//) who spent an hour with me trying to figure out what Shiro and Keith would represent if they were only splotches of colour. If you're looking for music this time around, [Ghost of a King](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C5kuxgJGtEw) is the theme song of this chapter. I hope you all enjoy!

The sky above Lance bled colour. There wasn’t a time when he could remember any colour sticking except white. Always white. The ground beneath him was chalky, puffs spilling over his shoes whenever he shuffled his feet. There was something – strange about the path he was taking, something off about the entire production, but Lance could not recall the beginning of his journey nor where he was trying to go. The path led him forward and he followed it.

He’d passed creatures on his way. He remembered them. Shapes and stalks and eight legged monstrosities; he’d passed them all. He hadn’t come across anyone in some time now. The sky clouded with grey before it bled out again. Lance kicked at the ground.

There were flashes, sometimes, of a river off to his right. Sometimes his left. Perhaps that was where his journey was supposed to lead him. Lance paused, one foot in front of the other, and waited for the river to appear in his peripheral. The water filled him with certainty, with loyalty and faith and love, and even if it wasn’t where he needed to go, he wanted to be there. It appeared and Lance was comforted. He kept walking.

Glancing up, he was surprised at the shroud of a figure in the distance, a splash of vibrant colour in an otherwise disproportionately pale world. As he approached, it took the strange shape of a lion, dipped in all the shades of blue he’d ever known. She lifted her chin at his approach, eyes burnished gold, tail lashed tight around her paws. Her outline blurred, as though someone had rubbed an eraser against her in hopes of distorting her image forever. Lance slowed. The sight of her, sitting regal and tall, sparked wonder deep in his gut. Wonder and overwhelming relief.

The lion stood, her size (incomprehensible, impossible, incredible) completely natural. The tips of her ears reached just under his chin (she was so large he couldn’t see the top of her head), her paws the size of his face (the size of a bus, a plane, a _field_ ), her jaws filled with sharp teeth (metal and jagged, filled with ethereal blue light). There was no fear at the sight of her, only a sense of peace. She padded up to him, utterly normal, and butted her nose against his chest.

 _Paladin_.

Lance lifted his hand and touched her muzzle, swiping through the forest of whiskers that deepened the unnatural blue of her fur. Her purr thundered out as she nudged into his touch, throwing her body against him. Laughing, Lance rubbed her velvety ears. She coiled tight around him. He dropped his forehead to hers, smiling.

She licked the side of his face, her tongue sandpapery and wet. Lance chuckled, shoving her face away, and she playfully batted at him with her large paws. Warmth rolled off her in waves and Lance’s chest squeezed, a despair he hadn’t noticed before rising in his throat. Tears caught in his eyelashes and he tucked his face against the lion’s head, rubbing his thumbs against her jaw.

“Why does it hurt?” he asked.

The lion nudged up against him, purring. _Paladin. Lance. Follow me._

“It hurts.”

_You are lonely. You are hurt. It will be better, but we must go._

Pulling away, the lion bowed her head until Lance took hold of her ruff, careful fingers finding purchase in the thick fur. Lance swallowed. “Where are we going?”

She looked to the east and Lance looked with her. Beyond her, a golden shore rolled out, sparkling and warm in an otherwise colourless existence. The river unfolded beyond it. Lance blinked. It disappeared into the same distorting drab colours the world had always been.

 _The shore_.

“I can’t see it.”

Her tail twitched. _You will._

With each step, the shore flickered in Lance’s peripheral, disappearing whenever he tried to catch a full look at it. The path altered the further they walked, splashes of colour poking through. Rich forest green. Burnished yellow. Hot pepper red. A soft black threading through and connecting them all. The blue lion added her footprints and Lance followed in her wake. The colours leeched into his shoes, leaving marks on the chalky path, following them as they continued onwards.

“Why am I here?” Lance asked.

Bowing her great head, the lion paused. She turned to rub her nose against his cheek, her gaze liquid and unknowable. _You were hurt. I could not protect you. Lance. Paladin._

“Paladin. I know that word.”

 _You are mine. I could not protect you and so I acted in haste. There is a way to make this better. We must go to the shore_.

Lance looked to the east. The light reflected off something unseen, perhaps the glittering river he still couldn’t glimpse. He nodded. The lion continued on her path, leaving her footprints for him to follow in, her purr a melody against his fingers.

They passed by others on the road and they turned away from him as though he was invisible. Lance frowned. Before, they had acknowledged his presence. Before, he hadn’t had his own purpose.

 _Do not dwell. Do not allow your loneliness to lead you astray_.

A wound opened in his heart, pouring out a sudden mixture of fear and uncertainty. His fingers slipped from the blue lion’s ruff as he lost his footing, knees hitting the chalky ground, and he stared at the coloured stains against his palms. He hurt. Not his body, but a deep wound inside of himself that he’d buried deep. His hands shook. A creature knelt beside him, humming an inquiry. He looked up at it. The lion snarled, coiling liquid fast around him, and swiped at the creature. Lines opened in its grey skin, spilling forth purple and red, and Lance froze.

 _Do not_. _Lance. Paladin. Do not falter._

The creature bellowed, swaying on its feet, and the lion hissed. Her hackles jumped up, her size growing and shrinking and _growing_ and Lance couldn’t look away from the rivets of colour. Purple and red. Lights. Beams of starlight. Pain. Pain pain _pain_ \-  

_Do **not.**_

Startling, Lance stared at the top of the lion’s head, her mouth closed over his wrist and palm, teeth gentle against his skin. He hiccupped. She looked up at him, her purr drowning out his thoughts, and he relaxed in her hold. She was certainty. She was love and faith and loyalty. Wrapping himself up in her warmth, he allowed the last of the dark thoughts to filter out and return to the bleakness of his surroundings. She hummed her contentment, releasing him.

“I’m okay?”

 _You will be, yes._ _It will be better. Do not be swayed from your path. Lance. Paladin._ She paused. Her gaze flicked over his face and she touched her nose to his. _Cub._

His lion ducked her head until Lance was able to bury his fingers in her ruff, hauling him to his feet. The creature from before lay in a puddle of red and purple at the edge of the trail, long limbs fuzzy and fading. With quick steps, his blue lion led him away.

None of the creatures looked at him as they passed. That did not stop their words from rolling around in his mind, whispers of loneliness and uncertainty, of vicious anger and devastating self-depreciation. Whenever one got too close, his blue lion would lash out, spilling red and purple against the landscape. Lance turned away from it every time. The creatures brought pain. The shore would bring peace.

But words could stick. Restlessness twitched through him, pushed him forward until he was walking beside his lion and then pulling ahead. She swiped at his ankles, slowing him whenever his fingers loosened. Words drove him on, thoughts static and stuck. He had come from somewhere. His blue lion was taking him back there. Did he want to go? Was it worth going? Did they want him to come back?

The familiar wound re-emerged, thick with doubt and pain. Clouds of chalk settled over Lance’s shoes as he paused. His lion paused beside him, her tail lashing back and forth, back and forth. Lance swallowed. “Do I want to go back?”

 _Yes_. Her hiss raked over his senses, dislodging the less sticky words and scattering them to the wind. _Uncertainty plagues their minds. You are faith. You are loyalty. You are certainty. Come home, cub. Come to the shore._

“Who are they?”

Instead of answering, puddles of colour appeared around them. The same colours from before painted the landscape in startling detail: emerald swayed in the grass, yellow shone in the sands that waited, red clustered in impossible flowers with impossible petals, black escaped over the sky above. They stuck, just for a moment, before even they bled out. Lance looked down at his lion. She watched him.

 _They want you. They need you. Do not doubt that_.

“How do you know?”

_Without you, they are incomplete._

The pain swelled, sudden and overwhelming. Lance gasped, pressing his hand to his chest. “They can find another to take my place.”

 _No_. His lion turned to face him, her tail twitching in agitation behind her. _They cannot find another for there is no other. Lance. Paladin. You are their certainty. You are their faith. Do not lose yours_.

“Faith can be found. Certainty can be made. They can find another.”

 _Stop_. A large paw pressed against his face, pushing him backwards. He fell, palms scraping over the chalky path. Blue exploded like blood splatter beneath him. His lion followed after him, towering and regal. _Do not doubt. Cub. This uncertainty has led you down the wrong path_.

Lance clenched his fists around dust. “I don’t know which path is right.”

_The shore is your path. The water is your destination. Follow me._

“Why?”

She paused, her gaze fathomless and unknowable. The blue around her muzzle was nearly silver, and the edges of her eyes glowed with ethereal light. The sky above bled into grays, a cautious drizzle. She dropped her nose to his forehead, nuzzling, before she pulled back to study him.

_I need you. I will protect you. You are mine. Lance. Paladin. Cub. The shore awaits. You will follow because I am your certainty. You are my faith. We are our loyalty. You are their love. Follow._

Squeezing his eyes shut, he found the edges of his uncertainty and let it go. His lion hummed, her purr reverberating over him. Lance nodded. He opened his eyes. “Okay.”

She ducked until he gripped her ruff, standing beside her one more time. She led him down the path. The colours followed, blotting out the bleak white with brilliant, vibrant hues. The creatures no longer lingered. They were dashed away by colour.

They reached the edge of the path. Beyond, the shore shone golden with light and the colours chased each other across the expanse of the river. Lance paused when his lion continued forwards, past where the path ended. This wasn’t done. He couldn’t. He was not to stray from the -

His lion purred, a reassurance as well as a promise. Lance swallowed. Certainty. He had to have faith.

He could have faith.

Lifting his shoe, he dripped blue over the emerald grass and stepped down. His lion hummed, her tail flicking gently against his side, and brought him to the shore.

The sand blistered the soles of his feet even through his shoes. The water sparkled, blinding, a kaleidoscope of colour reflecting off its surface. She guided him to the edge and further in; the water lapped at his ankles, shockingly cool. She bowed her head and drank.

Falling to his knees, he gathered a handful of water. Beneath, staining his palms, was every colour of blue imaginable. It mingled with the others, danced and shifted and belonged, and Lance was mesmerized; fascinated. His lion nudged at him.

 _Drink. Cub. The shore guides you back. You are safe_.

“Follow you?”

She chuckled, her nose wet against his temple. _Follow me._

Lance tilted his head forward and drank.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Here we are. The final chapter. It’s – well, it’s long. I’ll write a more detailed end note but I did want to shoot a quick thank you to everyone for sticking with me throughout the entire fic. I’m still floored by the amount of comments and kudos. A lot of songs cover the entirety of this last chapter, but a few of the ones that I loved and listened to a lot were: [ The Way](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oN2Xs-MvxLw/); [ Divenire](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b8SkX9CSJQo/); and [ Africa](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=88lPiDXJ-yI/).
> 
> So, thank you, and I hope you enjoy the final chapter of ‘ghost of a king’.

Lance woke.

It was slow and imperfect, sleep still grappling with his senses. An ache swept over his body, bone deep weariness, and he gasped, eyes sticky as he fought to open them. Light pricked at his vision, blurry shapes trying to take form. Someone was holding his hand. Someone was holding _him_. Exuberant delight flooded his mind; not his own, no, not – _Blue_. Blue!

Sound popped back in, a cacophony of voices shouting his name, and Lance curled to the side against warm familiarity. The fingers tangled in his tightened and shifted, his name called from close by. Blue rang her euphoria from the goddamn rafters. Lance squeezed his eyes shut.

“Blue, please, you’re killing me, stop,” Lance groaned, trying to burrow away from the sound. She went surprisingly quiet before her thoughts marched back in full force, impossible to block out. Lance mentally threw something at her. “You’re so _loud_ , stop it.”

“Lance?”

Lance cracked open an eye and glanced up, meeting Hunk’s bewildered face. Why was Hunk – had he been – crying? Lance pushed himself upright and gasped when pain shot through his arm, not debilitating but _definitely_ unwelcome, and collapsed back. Blue’s thoughts turned sharp and terrified. Lance squeezed his eyes shut, overwhelmed.

“Blue, you need to stop, please.” There was little room in his head for his _own_ thoughts, let alone Blue’s constant stream. This time Blue backed off immediately. She hovered, still and uncertain. Lance breathed out and opened his eyes once more. Hunk stared down at him, tears caught on his cheeks, and Lance tried for a smile.

“Who died?”

Hunk yanked Lance up and into a hug. Lance braced himself but Hunk moved carefully around his arm, supporting Lance’s back as he cried into Lance’s neck. Confused, Lance lifted his good arm only to have his hand pulled back down by someone else. Keith caught his gaze over Hunk’s head, wide eyed.

“You all look a lot more worried about my waking up then I think is necessary,” Lance said, aiming for another grin. Keith’s face paled, his hold on Lance tightening. Lance swallowed. They – what had happened? Something had happened and he couldn’t remember –

_Cub._

Startling, Lance jerked in Hunk’s hold. That voice. He knew that voice. A river, a chalky path, drowning, falling, they fell, they _fell_ and –

“Blue?”

 _Lance. Paladin._ Joy swept around him again and Lance was pulled right along with it. There had been a fight. There had been pain. Blue had reached for him and Lance had reached back. She had found him in a place with no name, on a path with no destination, and led him to the shore. Lance exhaled.

“Whoa,” Pidge said, her face alarmingly close to his. Lance jerked back with a start. “Your _eyes_.”

“What?”

Hunk still clung to him and Keith had skirted around until his shoulder was lined up against Lance’s, their joined hands against Lance’s hip. Shiro stood behind Pidge, peering over her head. He smiled when Lance met his gaze.

“Welcome back.”

“Yeah,” Lance said, lightheaded. Blue rolled her thoughts against his, purring and euphoric. “Uh. I was - somewhere. Right? I wasn’t here?”

“We don’t know,” Pidge said. She leaned against Hunk, her hand reaching to press warm against Lance’s arm, fingers biting into his skin. A notable tremor worked along her jaw.

Keith bumped his forehead against Lance’s shoulder, voice small. “Red said you were gone, that you were dead.”

Blue’s thoughts spiked, regret a burning coal against Lance’s thoughts. He winced; she soothed the hurt with a trill. _Cub. Lance._ Memories lapped at his mind, some sticking, others disappearing back into the sand. There had been sand. A beach? Lance squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. “There was a battle. We lost?”

“ _No_ ,” Keith said, red hot, and Lance jerked toward him. Keith kept his face pressed into Lance’s shoulder, words muffled. “You didn’t lose. We just weren’t fast enough.”

“I’m pretty sure that means I lost,” Lance pointed out.

“What matters is that you’re okay,” Shiro said. Lance caught the flex of Shiro’s robotic arm out of the corner of his eye. “We should probably get you back in the pod, though.”

“I’m feeling pretty good actually.” Lance dropped his chin on Hunk’s head, smiling when Hunk hugged him tight, still mindful of Lance’s injuries. Fatigue loosened his tongue, the dull throb of pain making way for honesty. “I mean, my arm kind of hurts and my head keeps splitting open because Blue is really loud, but this is – nice. I like this.”

Shiro frowned. “That isn’t comforting.”

“We do need to run some tests on you, Lance,” Allura said. He blinked in surprise; the whole gang was here. “I’m glad you are all right. Do you know what happened?”

“I was dreaming. There was a path and – then I woke up here?” Lance twisted his fingers into Keith’s. Pidge and Shiro waited, quiet, Pidge tightening her hold on Lance’s arm. “It’s fine, guys, stop looking like I’m about to die.”

“You almost _did_ ,” Keith said, anger burning Lance’s shoulder. Lance swallowed. He pressed his thumb to the indent between Keith’s knuckles, pressure, pressure.

“Yeah, but I didn’t, so I think we can call that a win, yeah? Did we at least save the moon? Tell me Blue and I were awesome enough to save the moon.” Blue purred, her curiosity saturating his mind, filling each corner with a warm glow. Lance’s eyelashes fluttered. “What am I saying? Of course we were awesome enough to get it done.”

“You’re an asshole,” Keith deadpanned. Lance grinned.

With quick hands, Pidge grabbed his chin, tilting his face up. “Look at his eyes. Why are they doing that?”

“Uh - ”

Shiro leaned over her shoulder, eyes wide and alarmed. Blue hummed a tune. It plucked at lingering uncertainties in Lance’s mind, wiping them clean and leaving Lance relaxed and protected. Prickles of light danced over his vision momentarily and he was seeing double. He was staring at Shiro and Pidge but they all huddled beneath him as a group and they – he – she – they were – he –  

_You are safe. You are here. Cub. Lance. Paladin._

“Blue,” Lance said. His vision wobbled and Lance gagged, sagging in Hunk’s arms. Blue nudged against him and the lines went blurry again, their gazes matching up, the slip-slide of their thoughts ringing together. Lance was – Blue – he couldn’t keep them separate.

“Lance?” A hand in his hair, fingers along his jaw, palm against palm, arms across his back; voices, voices, _fuck._

“Blue, _duele_ ,” he gasped.

Blue recoiled and the jar as her mind left his sent him reeling, thoughts spinning without an anchor. There wasn’t enough air in his lungs; his heartbeat thundered like a drum in his ears. Hand in his hair, palm against palm. She couldn’t touch his thoughts without them meshing, he couldn’t reach out to her without falling; something was wrong. Fingers along his jaw, arms across his back. He was here, he was safe, this was fine. Voices, voices.

“Lance!”

“Quickly, we must get him back to the pod.”

“Not again, please not again - ”

Blue’s thoughts churned like quicksand and Lance fought against them, terror clogging up their space. He was lightheaded and light bodied. Blue bumped her anxiety against him and Lance felt it stick, strands and webs leeching away at him. She recoiled again. Whiplash. Footsteps. Hands gripping tight and voices worried.

“It’s fine,” he tried to say. Words slurred like water against his tongue. His vision was double, single, single, double, and he ricocheted between them. Yellow and Black, flashes of their eyes as they moved – Hunk running and Shiro keeping pace, Keith with their palms together and Pidge racing ahead – hangar doors, hallway walls, double, single, single, double.

 _Follow me_.

“I can’t.”

Blue’s thoughts churned with melancholy and bubbles of hope. Lance pushed back uncertainty and wonder.

_Certainty. Cub. I am your certainty._

“I am your faith,” he muttered. Blue purred. Cold leeched at his ankles, at his calves, and his thoughts dissolved into starlight.

 

It started in his toes, warmth working quickly up his body as he breathed shards of ice out and molten heat in. It mixed pleasantly in his chest, thawing his core, and Lance tilted forward. Hands caught him, gentle, gentle, and when he opened his eyes the infirmary walls slowly came into focus.

Keith was supporting him, arms tight around his waist and forehead against his jaw. Lance blinked, ice crystals melting from his eyelashes, and exhaled. Thinking was – difficult. A fuzz of emotion lingered at the back of his thoughts but it dared not come closer. Lance caught his hands on Keith’s shoulders, elbows shaking.

“Take it easy,” Keith said, muffled and indistinct.

Lance popped his ears by sliding his jaw, groaning when sound clicked back in properly. “I hate cryo.”

“You do seem to spend an alarming amount of time in there,” Pidge said from his left. Lance slumped against Keith, soaking up the warmth. Keith rubbed soothing fingers into the small of his back.

“How long was I in this time?”

Keith nudged against his temple, nose ghosting over the shell of his ear. “Before or after you fainted?”

“Excuse you, I did not _faint_. I was attacked by an entire fleet and then bombarded by the thoughts and emotions of a giant sentient space cat.” Lance pushed at Keith’s shoulders, but every inch of space between them was cold so he scrapped the idea. He dug his fingers into Keith’s stupid mullet and breathed him in. Secretly. Keith’s grin pressed against his skin.

“Keith, stop hogging Lance. Hunk is about to go out of his mind,” Pidge said.

Before Keith could pull back Hunk barrelled into them, picking them both up. Lance exhaled sharply, still dizzy. Keith squirmed, trying to get an arm free, and stumbled when Hunk released them. Lance caught Hunk’s shoulder, smiling.

“We got to stop meeting like this,” Lance said. Hunk scrunched up his face and pulled Lance in for another hug, fierce and enclosing. Lance sank into it. The emotion at the edges of his thoughts perked up.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Hunk whispered. He drew back, fingers squeezing Lance’s shoulders. “ _Never_ do that again.”

“I’ll try, buddy, I’ll try.” Lance caught Hunk’s wrists, swaying in his grasp. “I’m still a bit loopy from the cryo and I don’t know how long I’ve been out, but I’m pretty sure my stomach is trying to eat its way into my liver.”

“You were out for three days.” Pidge peered around Hunk, laptop tucked against her chest. Thick dark circles pinched under her eyes. She smiled. “We’re orbiting D’Vix now.”

“Then I should definitely eat. Three days, huh? Before or after I _didn’t_ faint?”

He pushed away and stumbled, his vision going wobbly and ( _hangar bay doors, the entirety of space and the stars, computers lined up against the wall_ ) he blinked until it steadied. Hunk had him around the waist and Keith was clinging to his hand. Pidge’s fingers hovered over his stomach. Lance shook his head, mouth dry. The emotions thundered in the back of his mind, gaining traction, and he couldn’t stop it.

“I need to lie down.”

“Right, yeah, right.” Hunk bent to catch him under the knees. Lance yelped, grabbing for a hold, and was immediately assailed by an overwhelming flood of euphoria. He gasped, bowing forward. Hunk carried him to the cots lining the edge of the room, placing him down gently. There was too much – too – _Cub_ – Blue – he couldn’t _think_.

“Lance, can you hear me?”

“I thought she said he would be _fine_ after three days!”

_Cub. Lance. You awaken._

Shuddering, Lance clutched at his head. “Blue, you need to back off real quick.”

Her curiosity buffeted him raw and he choked. She yanked her thoughts away and Lance’s lashes fluttered, the room spinning as he reoriented himself. There was too little between them, an unseen barrier lost, and Lance sucked in a desperate breath. Her thoughts churned restlessly against his, eager to share in his awakening. It was fine. He was fine. Christ, that hurt.

“It’s okay,” he said aloud, reaching up. Someone caught his hand, rough texture against his palm, and he blinked up at Keith. “I’m okay. Just give me a moment.”

Keith glanced over his shoulder. “What the hell is happening?”

Blearily Lance could make out the cloud of silver that was Allura hurrying toward him. He startled when she caught his face in both hands and tilted him up, her thumb raising an eyelid.

“Talk with the Blue Lion,” she ordered.

Lance blanched and Blue rumbled at the edges of his thoughts. But it wasn’t the edge, there _was_ no edge, and her thoughts tangled swiftly with his own. Everything became twice as loud and three times as muffled, his vision splitting off and separating. They stood. They were sat down. They paced. They were held –

A slap jerked Lance back into his body and he gasped, hand jumping up to touch his cheek in shock. Blue’s thoughts spiralled away. Allura stared down at him, wide eyed. The rest of the team stood behind her, exchanging glances.

“ _Ow_ ,” he said, working his jaw. “What did I ever do to you?”

“How did you manage such a feat?”

Blue touched his thoughts. Lance sidestepped it and her instinctive hurt shot through him like a plasma blast. “I didn’t mean it, Blue, I don’t -”

“Lance,” Allura snapped.

Lance raised his free hand, pleading. “There’s too much happening in my head. Give me – hold _on_ , Blue, dammit.”

His vision wobbled, doubled, and they paced restlessly in their hangar. Lance wrenched himself free. Blue hissed. She was uncertainty and ceaseless worry, circling around the hangar and eyeing the doors to get free, to get to Lance.

_Cub. Why?_

Lance didn’t even know where to start. He’d just woken up. He –

“Lance!”

“I’m here!” Lance said, pulling his attention back to the infirmary. “I’m here, I promise, I just need to figure out what the hell is going on.”

“What is ‘going on’ is that you’ve bonded with your Lion.”

Lights danced in Lance’s peripheral, a weird overlap of Blue’s hangar waiting to overtake him. He swallowed. “Uh, isn’t that what we did when we originally sought them out? I mean, Blue and I were pretty close before this whole thing happened.”

Allura narrowed her eyes. “It takes years for Paladins to truly bond with their Lions! Do you understand what you have done?”

“I didn’t _do_ anything,” Lance said. Blue huffed at him, begging his attention, and he gently pushed her away. “We were kind of in a high stress situation and Blue felt like she didn’t have a choice.”

“A choice?” Allura’s voice climbed. “You took down your side of the barrier as well! You allowed for the bond to happen!”

“Princess,” Shiro said, placing a hand on Allura’s shoulder. Her head snapped to the side, lips twisted in agitation, and Shiro raised his hands placatingly. “I think if you told us why this was such a bad thing we’d be able to follow you easier. Blaming Lance for what happened in a life or death situation isn’t going to make things better.”

Allura breathed out sharply, crossing her arms over her chest. “When a Lion bonds with its Paladin, they are stating outright that this Paladin will be with it until one or both of them perish.”

“Oh,” Lance said, quiet. Blue hummed.

“Most Paladins require years of experience with their Lions before they are willing to make such a commitment. Many don’t, instead choosing to keep themselves separate from their Lion.”

Blue’s thoughts turned melancholy, flutters of memory brushing against Lance’s thoughts: Paladins long past, many that rejected her offer of a bond. Lance pressed a hand to his chest, actively broadcasting reassurance through his insecurity and panic. Blue rumbled.

“Lance,” Allura said, and Lance jerked his gaze to hers. She sighed. “The bond is a tenuous thing, one that either of you can be lost to at any moment. It takes _practice_. Coran touched on it briefly when you first tried to form Voltron.”

“The training helmets,” Pidge said.

Allura nodded. “It is true that each Paladin must have a strong bond with their Lion. That bond can flourish further to where the Paladin and the Lion become of one mind and soul. There are side effects of this kind of connection. Due to the melding of their minds, Lance and the Blue Lion can become lost in each other’s thoughts, memories - all of it. With time and training this can be handled and the danger will become less, but you are still incredibly new, Lance.”

“Then we give him the training,” Shiro interrupted.

Allura sighed. “Yes, and we shall. However, the fact remains that Lance is intrinsically tied to the Blue Lion. Unfortunately, that also means that no one else may pilot it until he dies.”

“Morbid.” Lance smiled weakly. Blue tried to quell his fears but he shoved her away, pictured a box that he could hide himself in so he could _goddamn_ _think_. Blue whined, nudging at him. Lance yanked his hands free of Keith’s, trying to block Blue out by clapping both hands against his ears.

“Let’s hold off on any dying talk until Lance has a chance to breathe,” Shiro said. The cot dipped and fingers caught Lance’s wrist, gently prying his hand away from his ear. Lance flicked his gaze to Shiro. Shiro smiled. “Welcome back. We missed you.”

“What, did you think I wouldn’t come back?”

Blue recoiled at the thought, her horror a riptide that dragged Lance under. He squeezed his eyes shut and held that picture of cardboard box in his mind, solidified it and fought for it and reinforced it. The tide calmed. The waves settled. Lance sucked in a deep breath. Blue curled in on herself. Puzzle pieces lined up and slotted neatly into place; Lance barked out a short, hysterical laugh.

What a mess.

“But you did,” Hunk said, gently.

“We’ll figure out the rest later.” Shiro smiled again, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’ve been in cryo for three days. Let’s get you something to eat, maybe relax a bit, and we can fill you in on what happened after the whole incident.”

“I’m fine, Bossman, thanks,” Lance said. Blue wouldn’t respond to his prodding, and Lance scrubbed a hand over his mouth. “Can someone help me down to Blue? She’s hurting.”

“I’ll go,” Hunk said, stepping forward and holding out his hand for Lance to catch. Lance tangled their fingers together and Hunk hauled him up, steadying his waist until Lance was sure of his footing. He leaned against Hunk’s shoulder, catching his breath, allowing the double vision to take him just so he could be assured that Blue wasn’t _completely_ cutting him out. She huffed, rolling away from him mentally.

“Big baby,” Lance whispered fondly. “Okay, while Hunk babysits Blue and I, I expect a feast when I get back. Something that screams ‘successful defender of D’Vix and its moons’. Coran can’t cook it.”

“But you’re taking Hunk,” Pidge pointed out.

“That’s – okay, well, placemats then. Streamers! I don’t know, just let me go console my giant sentient space cat. She’s upset with me.”

Hunk chuckled, steadying Lance as they made their way to the door. Chatter started up behind them, Keith the loudest, before the door cut them off. With easy grace, Hunk ducked in front of Lance and bent his knees, making the gesture for ‘up’ with his hands.

“A piggyback? Man, we haven’t done those since we were thirteen.” Lance didn’t protest further, just draped himself over Hunk’s back, elbows eschew and hands fisting lightly in Hunk’s shirt.

“You got tall, buddy. It makes it difficult to give piggybacks when it’s like trucking around an octopus.”

“You wish,” Lance fired back, dropping his chin against Hunk’s shoulder. Hunk hooked his palms under Lance’s thighs and stood, heading toward Blue’s hangar. Lance dully stared at the lights in the hallway, allowing his thoughts to go soft and welcoming. Blue remained distant, though she did acknowledge that he was coming to her.

“Everyone’s acting like I died and was resurrected,” Lance mumbled. He flexed his ankles before pointing his toes. “It wasn’t that bad, right? Blue got me out of there all in one piece.”

“Not at first, man, it was terrifying,” Hunk said, bumping his cheek against Lance’s. “You didn’t respond to anything we did. You were just gone. Red said some pretty damning things and it messed Keith up. Pidge was convinced there was something in the programming we could do. Shiro got quiet. No one knew what to do because we didn’t actually know whether bringing Blue back online would fix it.”

Swinging his knee, Lance sighed. “And I screwed that up, didn’t I? Blue fixes my head and now we’re bonded for life.”

“Allura’s just freaked,” Hunk said, soothing. “I’m sure it’ll all work out in the end.”

Lance huffed, fiddling with the collar of Hunk’s shirt. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Well, aside from the crying reunion at the beginning there and the scolding later on, you seem pretty okay with my near death experience.”

Hunk knocked their temples together. “Don’t get me wrong, man, I was _freaking out_. But I knew you’d come back. You’re reliable like that.”

Ducking his head, Lance smiled into Hunk’s shoulder. “Always got my back?”

“Sure do.”

The rest of the walk was comfortable silence, Hunk humming a familiar tune that relaxed Lance further. Blue poked at his outermost thoughts, curious as to what their conversation had done for Lance’s mood. Lance tentatively responded, content. When they entered the hangar, Blue’s thoughts grew three times louder and Lance hid his face against Hunk’s neck.

“Blue, you are so loud, girl, stop.”

She pulled her thoughts back until they were a quieted rumble. Computers lined the shelves behind her, half the monitors left on and staticky with colour. Blue’s tail flicked just close enough to them to be worrisome. She’d sprawled out in the hangar, her jaw against the floor and her eyes dulled to a sleepy gold. Her claws flexed absently against the floor.

Hunk cocked his head. “What do you need to do to console your big blue mechanical cat?”

“I have no idea.” Pushing at Hunk’s shoulders, Lance stretched out his legs and Hunk adjusted his stance to compensate for the shift in weight. “All right, Blue, you and I need to have a true heart to heart here. Or mind to mind. Mind-meld? Whatever, we need to _talk_.”

Carefully, Hunk helped Lance down. They swayed together, Lance focusing on how knees were supposed to work and Hunk allowing him the moment, fingers gentle on his waist. When Lance was certain he wouldn’t immediately embarrass himself, he about-faced and shuffled his way over to Blue. She didn’t move, though her eyes brightened considerably.

Reaching up, Lance brushed his fingers over Blue’s cold jaw. She turned her head to look down at him, vast and behemoth in size, and Lance closed his eyes. A smaller Lion formed in his mind, one splashed with every colour of blue imaginable, her paws large and her whiskers painting her muzzle silver. He smiled. Blue nudged against his thoughts and moved against his hand.

 _Cub_.

“Hey, Blue.”

 _You woke. You followed me_.

“You haven’t led me astray yet.” Lance leaned forward, his forehead cooling against the metal. She purred, warm and delighted, and his thoughts went fuzzy with her influence. They twisted together and pulled apart, he, she, they, we, and Lance laughed.

“You realize you’re stuck with me now, girl? Best buddies for life, for real.” Lance staggered when Blue crawled forward, the hangar shaking beneath him. She nearly knocked him flat on his ass. “Whoa, whoa, I’m not quite ready for full on tackles just yet. Maybe soon.”

 _You are worried_.

“Well, yeah, we’re kind of – I mean, you heard Allura right? You can’t choose another Paladin now. You’re stuck with me until I die.” Uncertainty unfurled in his stomach and he looked away, knuckles tapping a nervous rhythm against her jaw. “Is that okay?”

Her purr rumbled out loud, her paws flexing forward and creating a small space for Lance to stand between. Contentment flooded through his mind, easy joy, and Lance basked in it. “Good girl.”

Lance rocked back on his heels, fingers spread wide over her jaw, and Blue trilled the tune they’d been sharing when they first got into this whole mess. He hummed it back at her, their thoughts entwining, their emotions feeding off each other. Blue was vastness encapsulated, her memories ripe for the picking, and Lance only had to ask. He fell into her warmth, into her surety, and they wound tighter and tighter together.

Before him lay knowledge from over thousands of years, spread out as pinpricks of blue light. She had no desire for secrets. _Cub. Lance. Paladin_. Only the third Paladin to bond with her, and only the eighth she had asked. Satisfaction flooded through his chest.

Time lost meaning, tangled up in Blue’s thoughts. When Lance finally pulled himself away from her, he was wrung out and emotionally exhausted. Blue rumbled, shifting her head. The hatch leading to the cockpit hissed open.

“Lance!” Hunk called, and Lance sleepily looked over his shoulder. Blue promised safety and comfort, her thoughts molasses thick. An arm snagged around his waist, the other tightening over his chest. Blue’s thoughts grew sharp. “Hey, no, no, we’re not going in there right now. You _really_ don’t want to go in there right now.”

The door snapped closed with a clang and Blue stood up in one fluid motion. She was pinging surprise, a sudden prickling of sensation over his nerves. Lance sagged back against Hunk’s chest as she moved away from them. “Blue?”

 _Later, cub. Go. Your loved ones await_.

“You sure?”

_Yes. Lance. Paladin. Go._

“We’ll talk more later, ‘kay?”

She bowed her head in acquiescence before settling down again, the particle barrier flowing over her as she rested her head against the floor. Lance pressed his hand to it, projecting sincere gratitude and budding excitement. Blue nudged him away. Hunk tightened his hold on Lance and hauled him back.

“Why don’t I want to go in there?” Lance asked, words slurring together. His thoughts were tinged with a pleasant haze, his entanglement with Blue lingering like a relaxing massage. He was floating and blissful, high off the vastness of Blue’s mind cradling his own.

“You just don’t, trust me.”

“I do, I do.” Lance tilted back, patting Hunk’s hands on his chest. “We should get back to the party.”

Hunk laughed. “We definitely weren’t gone long enough for them to plan and put together a party. I doubt any of them even know how to cook.”

“My money’s on Hunk.”

A smile, as warm and well-loved as a yellow handled shovel. “Mine too.”

 

The fog cleared as they made their way back to the common room, Lance shaking off the last of it just before the doorway. The door swished open, Hunk through first and Lance at his heels, and –

“Wow, not even a celebratory banner. What a disappointment.”

Pidge tilted her head back over the end of the couch, eyebrow raised. Shiro covered his mouth, failing to hide his grin. Keith was absent. Huh. Lance picked his way over to the couch, flopping down beside Pidge with a heavy sigh, exhausted. Cryo was the _worst_.

“Coran is making you a ‘welcome back’ dinner,” Pidge said, her lips twitching up. Lance groaned, dropping his head back so he could make pleading eyes at Hunk.

Hunk passed a hand over Lance’s forehead before walking toward the kitchen. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll save us all from food poisoning. You owe me.”

“Always do!”

Pidge pushed to her feet after the door closed, her glasses cradled atop her head. “Green has been monitoring Blue’s activity for Hunk, so I want to make sure the calculations are correct before dinner. You okay here?”

“What, sprawled on the couch? It’s a lot more comfortable than the floor.” Pidge eyed him, waiting, and Lance waved a tired hand. “Go, be a genius or whatever. Crisis is over, Lance is back, yada yada.”

“Idiot,” she said fondly. She hopped over the back of the couch and headed for the door. “Call me when dinner’s ready!”

Lance slid further down on the couch, closing his eyes and relaxing into the cushions. He’d kill for his bed right about now. And food. The whole stomach-eating-to-liver thing had been a joke, but now it was definitely more of a problem.

The couch dipped beside him and Lance cracked open an eye. Shiro met his gaze, concern evident in the furrow of his brows and the downturn of his mouth. Lance tried for a smile.

“You okay, Bossman?”

“That should be my question,” Shiro said. Lance didn’t answer, pressing his palms into his eyes. Kaleidoscopes of colour exploded over his vision; there had been a river the same shimmering hues, caught in his cradled palms. Blue rolled against his thoughts, stealing the image away. Shiro tapped Lance’s knee, gaining his attention.

“Just doing the weird telepathic talking thing,” Lance explained, dropping his hands. Shiro nodded. His Galra hand trembled minutely and he tucked it off to the side, elbow locking. Lance paused. “My question still stands: you okay?”

“Of course,” Shiro said, too quick. Lance waited him out. He was too tired to prod in his usual manner; silence was a better tool in these instances.

Sure enough, Shiro sighed, tilting his head back to stare mulishly at the ceiling. “We need to figure out a better system to handle a situation like yours.”

“I’m pretty sure not blatantly running into an ambush would work,” Lance said. Blue prickled. Lance grinned. “I mean, we did do an awesome job at scaring off the fleet, but now we have a whole new slew of problems.”

“That’s not your fault,” Shiro pointed out.

Lance paused, eyes narrowing at the way Shiro caught the wrist of his Galra hand with his fingers, finally steadying the tremor. Huh. Lance chewed the words around in his mouth before saying, “It’s not yours either.”

The flinch was imperceptible, a static shiver over Shiro’s shoulders that Lance would’ve missed had he blinked. Lance sat up, mind racing and words tumbling. “Shiro, you know it’s not your fault, right? It was a generic recon mission gone sour. Those were bound to happen sometime and honestly, it was going to be me from the get-go.”

“That –”

Lance talked over him. “And if you’re blaming yourself for not getting there faster, hate to tell you this, but wormholes aren’t exactly teleportation devices. Time still exists; ETA of thirty minutes from what I remember. That’s pretty good, actually. Last time, a cross galaxy jump took us well over an hour.”

“Lance –”

“I mean, it’s not like you actively told the Galra to attack me. They dangled a lure in front of Blue and me and we took the bait. It ended badly. But hey, look, not dead! That has to be a bonus. Well, maybe not a bonus because now I’m forever tied to a giant sentient space cat, but there are worse ways that could’ve gone.”

“ _Lance_.”

Shiro caught one of Lance’s wildly flailing arms, a smile tugging at his lips. The tension had lessened in his shoulders, though his Galra arm still remained off to the side and away from Lance. It was progress. Uncertainty rested in the creases around Shiro’s eyes.

“I don’t blame you for not getting to me,” Lance said softly. Shiro looked away. His fingers flexed against Lance’s skin before Shiro released him, pulling back. “I’m okay, now. I’m fine.”

“I can see that,” Shiro said. His tone was shaky, confidence lost but trying valiantly to remain afloat. Lance frowned. A charred piece of driftwood, silver tucked beneath. A need to be seen yet remain unseen.

“All right, get up.” Lance stood, ignoring the wash of dizziness that followed, and planted his feet. Shiro blinked up at him. “Up, up, get up.”

Shiro pushed to his feet, confusion flitting fast over his features. Lance used that imbalance to get in close.  Before Shiro could protest, Lance wrapped his arms around Shiro’s waist and yanked him in for a hug. Shiro startled against him. There was a brief stillness, Lance’s hug loose and careful, before a tentative hand touched gently at his shoulder blades. Lance breathed out and squeezed a bit harder.

“Come on, Bossman, it’s just a hug,” Lance said into Shiro’s neck, chuckling. “Easier to make sure someone’s okay with a nice hug, after all.”

“Oh,” Shiro said, soft and wondrous, before he folded down and tightened his hold, fingers desperate against Lance’s back. Lance hummed, rocking up on his toes until they slotted together easy. Shiro sagged as though his strings had been cut. Lance steadied him, tapping a soothing rhythm between Shiro’s shoulder blades.

“You scared me,” Shiro murmured.

“Yeah, I’m getting the sense my time in cryo wasn’t exactly as relaxing for all of you as it was for me.” Lance rubbed his palms against the curve of Shiro’s spine. Shiro’s Galra arm hung limp beside them. “You’re not really getting the whole point of a hug. Both arms, Shiro. Hold and squeeze.”

Shiro tensed. Lance leaned back, just enough to catch Shiro’s gaze. The guilt there floored him. There was no - there shouldn’t be - slowly, deliberately, Lance touched two careful fingertips to the back of Shiro’s Galra hand.

“Just because it’s Galra-made doesn’t mean it’ll hurt me,” he said.

Shiro relaxed his fist, fingers whirring slightly. “I know.”

“Do you?” Lance cocked his head, hooking his fingers against Shiro’s Galra palm. Shiro didn’t pull away. Promising. “Both arms. Hugs are like an emotional heimlich and I think we both need to get some emotion out right now.”

Shiro barked out a sudden laugh and briefly squeezed Lance’s fingers, cold metal against warm skin. They stood there, having pushed well past what Lance knew was the acceptable time limit for hugs, but if Shiro wasn’t going to properly participate then they’d stay all night. Lance was stubborn like that.

With uncertainty in every jerky inch, Shiro lifted his Galra hand and Lance untangled their fingers. Wrapping his own arm back around Shiro’s waist, Lance waited. Patience. They had all the time in the universe.

Delicately, slow as molasses, Shiro finally rested his Galra hand on the small of Lance’s back. “Is this okay?”

“We’re getting there,” Lance said, rocking them back and then forward again, grinning at Shiro’s surprised exhale and the quick tightening of his grip. “I mean, we’ve definitely moved from hugging to cuddling, but I’m down for it.”

Another laugh, this one finally leeching the last of the tension from Shiro’s frame. He tugged Lance in and _squeezed_ , grounding and fierce. Lance breathed out a bubble of anxiety and fear, hoping Shiro was doing the same.

“That’s it, Bossman. Now you’ve got it.”

They hovered like that for a moment more, Lance tapping a tune into Shiro’s shoulder blades. Shiro shuddered out a final breath and loosened his hold before pulling away. He didn’t step back far, catching Lance’s shoulders with both hands. Also promising. Lance would take it.

Shiro said sternly, “Don’t do that again.”

“You know, I think the whole bonding-with-a-Lion shtick is a one-time deal.”

“Lance.”

Lance swayed into Shiro’s hold. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll do my best. We should definitely practice your hug technique in the meanwhile.”

“Should we?” Shiro’s brow jumped up, amusement quirking his lips

“Who knows, one day you too might be able to hug someone without making it awkward.”

“Lofty goal.” This time, the smile was larger, Shiro’s palms warming against Lance’s shoulders. “Sit. Relax. I’ll round up Keith and Pidge for dinner.”

Lance nodded and Shiro let go, heading for the entrance. Lance fell back onto the couch, shoulders digging into the cushions, and closed his eyes. He tucked his arms around himself as he reached out to Blue. She hummed easy against his thoughts, so close, a comfort he never thought he’d experience. He sent that to her in a blur of colour and sound and hopeful acceptance and her resounding purr settled deep in his chest.

Lance smiled.

 

Dinner was a quiet affair. Pidge begged off early, citing calibrations as her excuse. Keith sat down beside Lance, sweat at his temples and knuckles bruised from the training room, but Lance didn’t call him on it. Exhaustion trapped his voice, fingers shaky around his spoon. He’d slept for three days, but man, cryo left him weak. The food was good though. The company was better.

Lance slipped away as they wound down for dessert, catching Keith’s gaze and sharing a small smile. Keith didn’t immediately follow him, swept up in a conversation with Hunk about Red’s latest upgrades and if she would be amiable to Hunk tinkering for a bit, but there was little doubt they’d find each other later.

Knocking his knuckles against the frame as the doors slid shut, Lance turned and made his way back to his room. The Castle groaned around him, settling in its own way, and Lance breathed out a sigh. Blue hummed a curious note. She was but a thought away. He reassured her and she sleepily curled her mind against his.

Lost in thought, Lance rounded the corner and nearly ran over Pidge. He caught himself on her shoulder and Pidge wrapped her hands in his shirt to steady herself. They stared at each other before Pidge narrowed her eyes.

Lance released her. “Man, we really need to put a bell on you or something.”

“I wasn’t trying to scare you,” Pidge said.

Lance straightened. Pidge did not let go. “Pidge?”

Swallowing, Pidge looked away. Her fingers tightened in the hem of his shirt, expression carefully blank. Lance waited, brows elbowing together. Pidge twisted her lips. A flicker of emotion caught in the twitch of her cheek and it was light through glass, fine cracks appearing where before they’d been hidden.

“You almost died.” It was simple and harsh. Lance blinked. Pidge spoke to the wall behind him. “You almost _died_.”

“But I didn’t,” Lance said, his hand hovering over her shoulder. He went for levity. “I mean, I almost died during that explosion too and I’m pretty sure you didn’t stalk me in the hallways then.”

“I’m not _stalking you_ ,” Pidge snapped out, her gaze catching his and sticking. Grief hung over her like a cloud and Lance rocked back at the sight of it, re-evaluating. Pidge ducked her head. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“Pidge -”

“Do you have any idea what it was like knowing you were fine but that you were gone?” Pidge’s words were directed at Lance’s collarbone, at his shoulder and his chest, fury caught in fine trembles along her jaw. His shirt was stretched and twisted in her fingers. Lance brushed the hunched line of her shoulders. Soft words, softer touch, a swirling piece of green glass in the palm of his hand.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“You weren’t there,” Pidge said, quiet, so quiet. “I couldn’t find you. You’re always - but you weren’t - ”

 _Oh_. Lance blinked down at the bowed top of Pidge’s head, his chest tight. Gently, he cupped her shoulders and dragged her in for a hug too.

Pidge’s breath hitched and she immediately wrapped her arms around his back, fingers fisting tight between his shoulders and face pressed hard into his chest. Lance dropped his chin down on her head, rocking them back and forth. She was a tense ball of uncertainty and unrealized grief. Lance soothed a hand down her back.

“I’m sorry.”

Her voice muffled against his shirt. “It’s fine.”

“You say that, but I can definitely tell you’re lying.” He adjusted his stance so she was tucked more comfortably against him. A shuddery exhale rushed out of her. “If it helps, I didn’t really want to leave.”

Pidge shrugged. She burrowed closer, glasses uncomfortably digging into Lance’s chest. Every tick that passed uncoiled more tension from her shoulders. The Castle settled around them, the lights flicking off further down the hallway. Lance hummed, quiet and slow.

At last Pidge sighed out a breath and relaxed completely.

Pleased, Lance said, “So, does this mean you missed my hugs?”

There was a startling second where Pidge froze - and then she laughed. She thumped her forehead against his clavicle, palms pressed between his shoulder blades, and giggled into his shirt. Ignoring the distinct wetness to it, Lance chuckled along with her, still swaying with her. Pidge sighed, turning her ear into his chest.

“Don’t tell anyone.”

“What, that you secretly like hugs? Why, Pidge, what kind of person do you think I am?”

“A terrible one that I can’t believe I missed.”

Lance snickered. Pidge breathed out the last of her laughter. “Don’t do that again.”

“You know I can’t promise that.”

“Then we won’t do solo recon missions anymore,” Pidge amended, fierce. “We go out in pairs.”

“And I thought you were good at math. Five Lions, Pidge. Makes it a _bit_ difficult to go out in twos.”

“Lance.”

“I’m just saying.”

Pidge squeezed him tight, bumping her face against him one last time before she released him. Lance stepped back, shoving his hands into his pockets. He glanced away when Pidge rubbed at her eyes beneath her glasses, giving her a semblance of privacy.

“I’m right here,” Lance said, risking a peek. Pidge pressed both hands to her eyes, glasses pushed messy into her bangs. Her lips twitched upwards but she kept her gaze hidden, tucking away the cracks.

“I know.”

“It’s no secret that I like hugs.”

Pidge chuckled, reaching up for her glasses and perching them back on her nose. “Thank you.”

“Sincerity! Pidge, should we get you checked in case you’re coming down with something?”

Rolling her eyes, Pidge nudged him with her shoulder. “I want to do some improvements to the Lions’ systems in regards to wormhole activation. Up for testing that out?”

Lance cocked his head to the side, smiling. “Potentially getting ripped in two by a wormhole? Sure, why not. I haven’t done anything else that universe-shattering in a while.”

Another eye roll, this one more exaggerated. “Welcome back, Lance.”

“Thanks.”

Pidge tapped her fingers against his hand, lingering, before she turned and headed for the common room. Lance leaned against the wall, crossing his arms to hold in the warmth from her hug. Promises he couldn’t keep.

Blue whispered to him: _Cub. Lance. Sleep._

“Soon, Blue, yeah,” Lance said, pushing himself upright. Too many thoughts crowded his head, Blue’s and his mixing into a cacophony of colour. As exhausted as he was, sleep likely wouldn’t come easy to him. Had to stay awake a little longer though. He made his way down the silent corridor, arm prickling with residual pain.

 

The observatory near Blue’s hangar was blissfully silent. Lance dropped down in front of the windows. His mind clamoured, Blue’s emotions tangling with his own, and he perched his elbows on his knees as he watched the cosmos roll by. The space between planets was astronomical; the spaces between galaxies incomprehensible. Blue nudged sleepily at him.

_Cub?_

“Couldn’t sleep,” Lance said. Blue purred, a thunder of noise that lit up the edges of his thoughts. He wrapped himself up in her warmth, in the easy joy she exuded, and pressed his forehead against the glass. Stars reflected in his eyes. “Do you think we’re different now?”

_Not different. More. So much more._

“That’s kind of the problem, isn’t it? Allura said this usually happens over years and years. What does that make me?” Lance allowed his vision to wobble; Blue’s hangar slipped seamlessly over the stars. They rolled their jaw against the floor, gaze hovering on the computers Pidge had yet to remove. They moved between the two, Blue watching the stars and Lance caught in the eerie glow of the computer lights until everything meshed together. They pulled apart again. Lance closed his eyes.

It should scare him more, being this connected to another. Blue shied away from that thought, prickling with worry, and Lance soothed her. It was something to get used to, that was all. Something new. Something his family would never know about him. Something they might not –  

 _Lance. Cub. You are their love_.

“Different family, bud,” Lance said. Blue’s curiosity lit the edges of his thoughts soft pink. Lance opened his eyes. “Mama would be furious; sharing thoughts with a giant cat? That’s definitely not something she was expecting when I went gallivanting off to the Garrison.”

 _You miss them_.

“Yeah.” A memory, one pocked with dreamlike uncertainty, floated to the forefront of his mind. “I was on a beach, before the shore. My family was there. Mama was there. She held my face and asked me to tell her about the stars.”

Blue whispered condolences against his mind. Lance allowed the tears to tack his eyelashes together, blurring the stars into a kaleidoscope of colour. “I miss her. I miss them.”

Emotion took him, unfurling cruel in his chest and branching out. Here, surrounded by stars and Blue’s warm presence, he faced his choice. He’d given up a dream to return to reality. The pain of that choice burned; he would make the same one again, of course, simply because he knew it was right. What use was a dream when it could be dashed? They had no way of knowing when they would return to Earth, but Lance had to hope it would be soon. That instead of a dream mother, he would be able to hug his real mother. Blue chipped away at the jagged edges of his pain until his sobs tapered off to soft hiccups and shuddering inhales. He rubbed both palms against his cheeks with a laugh.

_You will be okay._

“Of course I will. It was just a dream.” Blue nudged him, hard, and Lance pushed back at her. “I know, I know. I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon, not if I can help it.”

The doors behind him shushed open. The reflection caught Keith picking his way quietly over to where Lance sat, sans jacket and strange pocket belt. Lance waited, thoughts fuzzy from Blue’s influence, and she backed off when Keith sat down beside him.

“You weren’t in your room.”

Lance grinned, tired. “Why, Keith, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were looking for a quickie.”

“Ass,” Keith said immediately, though the blush along his cheeks was telling.

Laughing, Lance closed his eyes again. A headache wormed along his temples and Blue soothed it away with ease, the brush of her thoughts a lullaby he fell into. When he untangled their minds, Keith was holding his hand, thumb rubbing over his knuckles.

“Welcome back.”

“Thanks.”

Folding his fingers over Keith’s, Lance pulled away from the window so he was properly sitting, feet pressed against the glass. Blue’s drowsiness seeped into him and he fought back a yawn. Keith remained quiet. Over and over, he traced the line of Lance’s palm, bangs low over his eyes.

“Do you –”

“Don’t,” Keith interrupted, fast and abrupt, and Lance’s teeth clicked closed. Keith’s shoulders hunched forward and his thumb pressed hard into the center of Lance’s palm. “Don’t, please.”

Lance’s gaze jumped over the tension in Keith’s jaw, the bunch of his nose, and elbowing of his brows. The stars rolled by, a brilliant background. Lance didn’t know what to say. His words jumbled in his throat: jokes to break the tension, innuendos to make Keith blush, confessions to bring them together. Lance swallowed them down. Instead, turning to Keith, Lance folded one leg under him and dropped his forehead against Keith’s shoulder in mimicry of what Keith had done when he’d first woken.

Keith turned his head and rested his lips against the crown of Lance’s head, every exhale warm against Lance’s hair. They stayed in silence. Lance recalled the vibrancy of a red hydrangea out of place, a reckless abandon spreading out along the petals. Blue’s drowsiness acted as a soft pillow against Lance’s mind and he exhaled until the tension in his back melted away.

“Can I talk now?”

“No,” Keith said, but it was no longer clipped. He jostled Lance gently before amending, “If you must.”

Lance turned his head so his cheek was resting against Keith’s shoulder, gazing at their joined hands. His fingers curled. “My abuelita used to say: ‘the eyes can deceive what touch cannot’.”

“What does that mean?”

Humming, Lance’s gaze went soft with remembrance. “She used to have nightmares. Military. People she couldn’t save. People she had to kill to save others. She told me that when she woke up, she couldn’t trust her eyes right away. ‘Dreams can take your eyes,’ she would say. ‘Touch is real. The dreams can’t take away your touch.’ It’s just something that stuck with me.”

“Smart.” Keith clung, taking reassurance. Lance waited it out.

“I’m okay, you know.”

Keith was silent, their fingers tangled tight. Lance rubbed his thumb over the rough skin of Keith’s knuckles. The stars caught and bled out over the floor, a bundle of light catching against Keith’s skin and turning it into starlight. Keith took a deep breath.

“I wasn’t fast enough.” Keith paused and took another breath. Lance waited, his tongue tapping against the back of his teeth. “Red said Blue tried to save you and failed. If we were faster, she wouldn’t have had to do that.”

“You can’t really change that now,” Lance pointed out.

More silence, familiar and weighted. Lance nudged his knee against Keith’s thigh. “Really, Keith, there wasn’t a lot any of you could do. It was a shitty situation from the get go, but I’m fine now.”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say. Keith’s shoulders tensed, his fingernails biting into Lance’s skin. “I wasn’t fast enough. You could’ve died out there, up against an entire fleet, because I wasn’t fast enough. I can’t get that out of my head. I don’t know how I would’ve handled it.”

“Hey, it’s not every day someone flirts with death and survives. I’m just that pretty,” Lance said. Keith laughed, a choked, wet noise, and ducked his head. Lance kept his eyes forward.

“I’m being serious, you dick.”

“And I’m telling you it’s fine. _I’m_ fine. A little spaced out and a bit fucked up in the head, but what else is new?”

Keith’s fingers relaxed and he breathed out another laugh, this one easier. He tried to smooth out the indents in Lance’s skin. Lance smiled. The silence was calmer now, a weight lifted and tucked to the side for later. Lance allowed his eyes to droop.

Clearing his throat, Keith said, “Before you left, you said you wanted to try.”

Lance’s smile fell. “I did. I’m pretty sure you agreed to it, too.”

“I know. I’m not taking that back.” Tension dropped from Lance’s spine, a breath of relief. Keith continued. “I want – I know you can’t promise me anything, because we’re at war, but don’t do that again.”

“I can’t promise that, but I’ll do my best,” Lance said. Keith gentled his hold on Lance’s hand, sliding their palms together. Lance lifted his head enough to drop his chin on Keith’s shoulder. His nose nudged against Keith’s cheek. Starlight caught in the edges of Keith’s frown, though it smoothed out the longer Lance stared at him.

Keith slanted his gaze to the side, lips quirking up. “As long as your best is running into asteroids and not ambushes, I think that’ll work.”

Lance huffed a laugh, pulling away in mock offense. Keith merely pressed their foreheads together, his own smile stretching wide. Lance laughed harder, their noses bumping gently. Keith drew his free hand over Lance’s jaw, thumb against the hinge, and Lance cupped the sharp jut of his hip.

Lance nudged him. “You’ve literally gone this entire time without kissing me. I’m impressed by your restraint.”

Keith pressed his smile to Lance’s mouth.

 

Two days later, Lance’s arm was fine, _he_ was fine, and Blue was going a bit out of her mind with being cooped up for so long. Her emotions bled over into Lance, static clinging to his thoughts and turning him twitchy. Shiro kept him on bedrest for another twelve hours before Lance pestered him into letting him go.

“You sure about this?” Hunk asked, following Lance to Blue’s hangar. Blue’s excitement waxed and waned within Lance’s mind, colouring everything a neon glow. Lance rubbed at his left eye.

“Yeah, it’ll be fine. Blue’s getting antsy and I want to get back in there before she stages a coup.”

“Coran cleaned her.”

Lance squinted. Blue rumbled her discontent. “That must’ve been an adventure. She hates getting cleaned.”

Hunk laughed, short and surprised, before he sobered. “I – uh – I mean he cleaned up the cockpit after the whole – thing. It should be like before the mission.”

“Was it bad?” Lance asked, his thoughts skittering around what it must’ve looked like. Blue scolded him for asking. “Wait, no, don’t tell me. I really don’t need to know.”

They entered the hangar, Blue up and pacing the length of it. Her thoughts tumbled against Lance’s, a shifting kaleidoscope that Lance fell into. Hunk pressed his hand to Lance’s back, grounding. Lance closed his eyes.

 _Cub. Lance. Follow me_.

“Soon,” Lance breathed out, gently pulling himself free. Blue plopped down in front of them, shaking the entire hangar. Lance laughed.

“You’re going all glowy again, dude,” Hunk said. Lance blinked until his vision resolved, glaring up at Blue. She trilled.

“We’re still figuring things out. I don’t really know how to turn it off, actually.”

“Do you think flying is a good idea then?”

“Stop worrying, Hunk. Blue’s there to make sure I don’t careen into a pit or something fun like that.” Bouncing up on his toes, Lance tapped his thumbs against his helmet. Blue hummed the tune in his head. “You’ll be on comms?”

“We all will,” Hunk said, smiling. Lance leaned against him a moment, soaking up Hunk’s warmth and strength. Hunk pressed a palm against the top of Lance’s head, thumb against his temple. Emotion thickened in Lance’s throat before he breathed it out, straightening with a grateful look at Hunk. Blue opened her mouth and the hatch door hissed wide. Lance squared his shoulders and jogged up the ramp before he could change his mind. He paused at the top, glancing back. Hunk gave him a thumbs up.

A jitter travelled up Lance’s spine as he dropped into the pilot’s seat, the controls lighting up around him and coming into focus. The scents of polished metal and that strange pine-like cleaner Coran put on everything washed over him and Lance scrunched his nose. His left arm tingled, a phantom brush of pain lighting up his nerve endings. He clenched his fist. Blue purred, warm and relaxing, a cascade of love and joy so bright that Lance immediately settled. He jammed on his helmet and flicked a switch.

“All right, girl, nice and easy.”

The hangar shifted up and moved them into position, the doors opening wide. Taking the controls, Lance breathed out. Blue stood, her thrusters coming online, and the calibrations popped up on his left screen. So far so good. Tilting forward, he eased her up and out into the brilliant expanse of space.

“You doing okay, Lance?” Shiro asked, his face flicking into view on the right. Behind him Pidge and Keith were crowded close, Pidge yanking on Shiro’s shoulder to get a better look. Lance could just make out Allura at the controls.

“I just started, guys. I’m not going to faint within five seconds of flying,” Lance said.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Keith deadpanned.

Lance rolled his eyes. “Your faith in me is _inspiring_ , Keith. Just you watch: I’ll blow you out of the water.”

Pidge snickered and Keith went hilariously pink. Lance grinned. The commlink stayed open, the easy cadence of his team’s voices mixing with the hum of Blue’s thoughts. He tapped in the sequence for Blue to have a bit more control, easing back while she swayed back and forth. The whole point of this exercise was to see how their weird mind-meld worked. Carefully, he poked around in her thoughts. She easily poked back. The double vision still churned his stomach something fierce but it was becoming easier to manage now.

“You can blacken the visor,” Lance said. The visor went dark. Lance’s vision wobbled. Blue eased their thoughts closer together until she became he became they.

Twisting in midair, they shot back toward the Castle. Loosely they could hear voices describing scenarios for them to navigate through and possibilities for them to try. The particle barrier came up before them and they jumped over it, claws scratching the surface just enough to get a shock. They became Blue became Lance and he breathed out. Still couldn’t see, but _wow_.

“As awesome as we are, I don’t think we’re ready to get shot at just yet,” Lance said to the last suggestion. He took control and pushed Blue away from the Castle, trusting her to yell if they ran into anything. “Let us get used to this.”

“If you can master this exchange, Lance, it will be very helpful in battle,” Allura said, her voice barely audible over the rest of the team.

Lance tilted his head back and Blue pulled him right back in. The stars twinkled above them, an expansive canvas pricked through with beads of lights. They looped lazily around the ship before turning toward D’Vix and its twin moons. An interested twinge. They dove for the atmosphere.

A flash of memory, of fighting against gravity and a ship charging above, broke their connection. Lance was thrust back into his body, gasping. Blue scrambled to maintain altitude. Alarms wailed as thrusters cut off, Blue trapped in Lance’s memories and Lance unable to calm the rapid staccato of his heart.

“Lance!”

Jerking his head toward his name, he fought to calm down. The visor became clear and space spread out above them, clear of a ship, clear of an ambush, and Lance’s chest twisted tight as he tried to stem the panic. He couldn’t breathe. His arm _throbbed_. Blue yowled in his mind.

Shiro, calm and pragmatic: “Just breathe. We’re right here, I promise. You’re okay.”

Lance sucked in a breath and released it explosively. Sweat broke out against his temples, sliding down his jaw, and he counted to three while breathing deliberately. Blue continued to claw at his thoughts, her panic an oil slick waiting to be lit aflame. Lance struggled to remain above it. He was okay. She was okay. They were okay.

“We’re right here, Lance,” Shiro said, calm, calm, a buoy that Lance desperately clung to. “You can come back if you want. Everything is fine. You’re fine.”

Lance closed his eyes. They were safe. He held his breath until his lungs burned, fingers and toes tingling, and released it explosively. His thoughts sharpened. Blue twisted, trapped. Lance took control again, coaxing Blue out of their spiral down, still within the grasp of D’Vix but no longer falling. She reached for him; Lance reached back with a promise.

“I am your faith.”

 _You are my certainty_.

With a final pull, Lance yanked Blue free from memories steeped in darkness. She curled around his thoughts immediately, blurring the lines, a desperate need for assurance masking her distress. Lance opened his mind, opened his arms, and they twisted until Blue’s anxiety was blotted out by Lance’s faith.

Together, they pushed through the thick cloud cover of D’vix. The surface exploded into view. They looped in big circles through clouds masked as bursts of flame and under rock shelves dipped in diamonds. They dove beneath crystal waters of the deepest blue. The riverbed rose to meet them, silt clouding their view as they slammed into the murky sand and pushed back up. Rocketing toward the surface, they broke through in a shatter of sound and water, pumping power into the thrusters as they climbed up and through the thin atmosphere.

A quiet cheer spread joy through their thoughts as they exited D’Vix and hovered above the Castle shimmering with its barrier. They became she became he and Lance laughed. “That was _awesome_!”

“You’re doing very well, Lance,” Shiro said warmly. Just beyond him Lance could make out the rest of the team, Hunk demanding more acrobatics and Pidge alongside Keith wondering over battle tactics. Lance allowed Blue to take over once again, a spectator to her play, seeing through her eyes but maintaining his own sense of self. She ran circles around the castle, hopping from hangar to hangar, calling for her sisters to come join.

“Not today, Blue, maybe tomorrow,” Lance said. Blue huffed but swung lazily back toward her own hangar. The particle barrier parted for them, a glittering path reminiscent of a golden shore. The waters called; Blue answered, and Lance soared. Following, trusting, understanding that Blue would always bring him back. Certain that he would find her no matter how far they were separated. Together and apart.  

Maybe being mind-melded to a giant sentient robot lion wasn’t so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s all she wrote, folks. To be honest, when I started writing this fic, I didn’t think it would get this long. I didn’t think I would end up finishing it, honestly. Then I dragged a friend into the glorious trash heap with me by asking if she would look over the battle scene in the first chapter. She had no idea what she was getting in to. Truth time: this fic never would have seen the light of day without the help and support of the brilliant [Lisa Onions](http://butteredonions.tumblr.com//), who stuck with me throughout the entire grueling process, helping me figure out symbolism and stealing all my commas and smacking me when I wanted to quit. Everyone go thank her immediately. Flood her with love. She is amazing in EVERY WAY. 
> 
> This fic also wouldn’t have gotten as far as it did without the support of all of you. Thank you to all the shadow readers who just wanted to check it out, to those that commented on every chapter, to those that kudosed and bookmarked. I’m still blown away that anyone would want to read this fic let alone comment on it. You’re all amazing and brilliant and just. Thank you.
> 
> If you want, you can follow me on [ tumblr](http://ashinan.tumblr.com/) where I regularly post little snippets of the fics I’m working on, talk about Voltron, and occasionally write prompts when people drop them in my askbox. 
> 
> Thank you again for reading. Thank you again for commenting. It’s been a beautiful ride. Till next time!
> 
> Edit: Also some stunning[ art???](http://kveykur.tumblr.com/post/150307672853/the-latest-ghost-of-a-king-chapter-got-me-3-i) from chapter five. THANK YOU!
> 
> AND MORE[ ART???](http://lilyyuka.tumblr.com/post/150995235718) Thank you so much!!


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